The Scientist's Daughter—Complete Collection
by The Dark Ibis
Summary: After detonating a bomb in her father's work space—and miraculously surviving—Annabelle finds herself lost in the streets of New York, drawn to one building only: Stark Tower.
1. Book I Ch 1

Sometimes, I can't sleep.

There are things that run through my head in the night, my brain picking at every detail of my room, scanning for problems. There was a chip in the wall. The lamp on my night table would need a new bulb soon. The sleeping pills my father left for me were two different sizes. The framed picture of my mother was covered in smudges. I sat up a bit in bed and opened the night table drawer, pulling out a small, soft cloth. It was meant for eyeglasses, I think, but my vision had always been close to perfect and I'd never needed them. Instead, this little cloth was used exclusively for cleaning my mother's photo, making sure no spec of dust or any fingerprints were left behind. She deserved clean glass.

The photo was taken years ago, before I was born, and had been shunned out of my father's collection because he thought it too blurry. It's true it was a bit fuzzy around the edges, my mother's arm blurred as she waved it in the air, batting one of the fallen red leaves out of her dark hair. But she looked happy. I'd never seen such a vibrant look on her face...and I never would. She had died years ago, when I was twelve, and she'd been sick long before that. I'd never known her healthy smile. Maybe that was why the photo was so important to me, like it was one piece of her, the real her, that I could hold on to. My father had told me countless times to choose a different photo. I couldn't bring myself to.

I stuffed the cloth back into the drawer and shut it as quietly as possible, even though I knew there was very little chance that my father would hear it. The house was big enough, and my room was far enough from his that I could make a little noise without waking him up. Still, I didn't want to risk it. My father wasn't exactly a warm man, and he would definitely wake up angry at this hour. I was a bit ashamed that I felt so afraid of him, even now, but there was something in the way he held himself that showed he wanted no nonsense. I was twenty three now, just barely, but he could yell at me and I would instantly become ten again, cowering from his power. Things had always been that way. And they always would be that way. I tucked myself under my comforter and tried to lull myself to sleep by humming. I counted sheep, ran through math problems in my head, tried to think up lines of poetry from the many books I'd read, but, as usual, nothing worked. The night dragged on, and my body stayed active. I was thankful when the sun peeked through my curtains.

My father was planning a get-together a few nights from now, something he did monthly, inviting scientists and other individuals of interest to our home for drinks, fancy foods, and, of course, enriching scientific conversation. He'd been into science for as long as I could remember, and it was the first thing that came to mind whenever I thought of him. He wasn't my father first; he was a man of science, innovation, deep thought. His research, in multiple fields, was what he was truly known for. He had even made a name for himself by starting a medicinal research company, appropriately and plainly named TG Medicines for 'Theodor Green.' Theodor was his middle name, but for some reason he felt 'Harold' wasn't as memorable. Apparently he was right in some way, because his company had taken off several years ago, giving him a much needed confidence—and financial—boost. Word seemed to have gotten around about me recently too, his pretty daughter who he'd schooled himself, who had 'inherited his brilliance' and could 'talk about any topic in detail.' I'd been studying the things he wanted me to study since I was very young, and by now I was practically his show-pony. Maybe I had 'inherited' his genius, with the way I could retain knowledge, but I hated the way he took credit for it. It was never about me or how intelligent I was. It was always about him. Always.

I didn't hate my father. I couldn't. I thought about this as I walked into the kitchen after I'd managed to get myself out of bed, starting up the coffee for him so he could wake up to it. He was a man on a mission, always searching for the next thing, studying what he could to try to unlock the secrets of the universe. He really wasn't that bad of a man anyway; sure, he had a temper, and many things were taken out on me, but in the end I always seemed to deserve it. After all, I had pushed my mother too far when I was young, dragging her out to play, hanging on her like she was a toy. I'd only made her worse. And he would never let me forget that. So, when he would get upset, when he'd graze my cheek with the back of his hand in a slap, I didn't think it that odd. It was fitting. Our relationship was what it was meant to be. I was a product of his genius, and I needed to do everything I could to help him succeed. That was my purpose.

He emerged from the hall and approached me, holding his hand out for his coffee cup. I quickly poured it for him and passed it over, being careful not to fill it too high so it wouldn't spill onto his hands. I'd done that last week, by accident, and had paid for it dearly. I needed to be more careful. He didn't say a word to me as he sat down at our counter, flipping open a newspaper and scanning through it, just as he did every morning. He never actually read it. He couldn't. We'd lived in Japan since I was about five, and though we'd been here all this time his Japanese was still sub-par. His speaking was clumsy, and he could hardly read a word of it. So he simply scanned, looking at pictures, reading the few words he could in hopes of finding something interesting. If he did, he'd hand it over to me and I would translate. I'd always had a knack for languages, which was one thing I had on him that he couldn't claim. German was his native language, and he was fairly good with English, but many other languages evaded him. When he had me take up studying he made sure that I learned everything he couldn't so that I could compensate for it. No one had to know I was the one writing the letters addressed to scientists around the world, so long as he signed his name at the bottom. I was too afraid to tell anyone that he really didn't know Russian or Japanese or French, even though Russian had been my mother's first and nearly only language. They'd shared English, but hers was often so bad that they had misunderstandings. I never knew why he didn't even bother learning for her. Maybe it was a power trip. Maybe he didn't want to fail.

"Stupid Stark," he mumbled in German, tossing the paper to his side and taking a loud gulp of his coffee. "He's working on all of this clean energy stuff now. His name is everywhere because of it. Like he's special for doing it. So much recognition for something that other people are already getting into, just because the world idolizes him. It's stupid." I tried not to look too curious as he cursed, though I felt tingles in my fingers at the mention of Stark. Tony Stark was not only an influential philanthropist (and self-proclaimed genius), but he was also now known as the legendary Iron Man. People called him a superhero, though some were still skeptical of the title, and I'd been so intrigued by him ever since he'd come out as such. Though I spent most of my time studying and reading complex textbooks and nonfiction, I did occasionally get my hands on comic books. I wasn't sure why I'd always been so drawn to them; they were stupid, really, with all of the action and ridiculous plots that shot off in every direction. Scientifically, many of the things within comic books were completely outlandish. But there was something about them, some charm, that drew me to them again and again. My younger cousin, Portia, would sneak them to me when we were younger, during the few visits she would make. My father and aunt didn't exactly get along so I didn't see her that often, but when I did she always had something new for me. I could get lost in a comic for hours, reading it over and over, the laminated pages falling through my fingers as the story unfolded. I wanted to be a superhero more than anything. I loved it more than science, more than language, more than anything I could ever learn within the books that my father gave me. I wanted to burst out of this house and go out to save the world, side by side with other heroes. Or, alternatively, one of them could make me their next project, scooping me up away from my father and taking me to a better life. I knew all of it was ridiculous, just make-believe, but the thought of it excited me completely.

I'd shaken the obsession years ago, though, trying to focus my efforts on more realistic means, but my love for the strange, brilliant, and supernatural stuck with me. So when I saw the newspaper next to my father, an image of Tony Stark smiling in front of his magnificent tower plastered on the front, something stirred in me. I waited patiently as my father droned on, complaining out of jealousy before finishing his coffee and leaving the room to go work. Cleaning his cup and trying not to jump for the newspaper, I attempted to calm my sudden over-excited thoughts. I made sure my father wasn't coming back before taking the paper and heading off to my own room.

The article wasn't anything too exciting, detailing Stark's work in the clean energy department and highlighting some of his newest endeavors. There wasn't anything about Iron Man, nor the other name that I was always looking for: Captain America. I'd been infatuated with him for years, back before he had even been found in the ice. I'd read comics about him, seen old newspaper articles about who he was and what he'd done. I didn't know why he'd stuck out more than anyone else. I honestly didn't question it, even if it was absurd. In the past I'd written an embarrassing amount of letters to him, after I'd found he was alive and awake. I couldn't recall exactly when he'd been found, which was odd, considering I knew almost everything about him, but I knew that I'd been old enough to know better than to write such ridiculous letters. Still, I'd done it. I was, quite literally, what I'd seen referred to as a 'fan girl.' Not that I would ever tell a soul. I'd work on weening myself off of my obsession, focus on the things I was meant to.

I had trouble sleeping again that night, tossing and turning irritably before I finally turned on my lamp and sat up, grabbing a book to sink into. It was on astro-biology and connectivity between human and other lifeforms, something that had become popular after the alien attack on New York a few years back. Scientists from all over had flocked there to try to gather materials to study, and though many had been sent away by the authorities, a few still pushed on. Their findings were highly theoretical, working on little evidence, but were still fascinating. Because of this, reading it was giving me the opposite of what I'd hoped for; instead of it lulling me to sleep, I found myself engaged in it. After about an hour, I had to put it down. This wasn't working. I cast my eyes on the sleeping pills, still sitting near the edge from the night before, and finally gave in. I scooped them off the table and swallowed them with a gulp of water, hating the way they felt as they slunk down my throat. Pills always made me feel like I was going to choke, like it was impossible for something like that to make its way down. But, just like that, they were gone. I waited, wondering how long it would take for them to set in. Sleeping pills had never worked well on me. I must have had some kind of tolerance, but I was too much of a chicken to take too many and….

When I opened my eyes again, sun was shining onto my face. My body ached, my heart beating erratically against my chest, contorting my breath and sending a wave of nausea over me. I tried to move, but it felt like all my muscles were paralyzed. All I could do was dart my eyes around in a panic. Eventually I started to regain some control of my muscles, starting with the tips of my fingers and moving up, until finally I was able to sit up in bed. Sweat dripped down the sides of my face. It took me a moment to notice the piece of paper that had been tacked to my bedside table, scrawled in German with a lazy hand. 'Let me know how the pills work,' it said. A spark of rage flared up inside me. This wasn't the first time my father had used me for testing out new products, but for some reason it angered me more than usual. He didn't even have the decency to warn me. He knew that I would do anything for him, comply where I needed to, take whatever he told me, and yet he still felt the need to go behind my back and do things like this. I crumpled the note and threw it across the room, angry tears springing to my eyes. My heart continued to painfully and violently throb. I pushed myself off the bed and stumbled my way to the door, my breathing heavy and taxed, but the anger that had risen in me was fueling me enough to stay standing. I didn't know where I was planning on going, but my body took me to my father's lab. It had always been a bit cluttered, full of failed ideas and tests that he carelessly left around. I shoved several beakers full of unidentified liquid off of one of the tables, feeling the slightest satisfying twinge as they hit the ground, shattering into pieces. My vision faded in and out. I continued around his workspace this way, throwing papers around, ripping things up, carelessly tossing around his supplies. Something inside of me kept me going, even though logically I knew this was wrong. I needed to go back to my room and calm down, have some tea, accept what had happened and move on like I always did. _No,_ I thought, pulling over a small table and letting it crash to the ground beside me. _He can't do this to me anymore. I am not a puppet. I am not a test subject. I am not standing for this anymore. Let him burn in hell._ The latter startled me a bit, so violent and seething with hatred. But I couldn't stop. I had the burning urge to take down everything, ruin all of his work and make him start from scratch without me. _He's going to be so disappointed when he comes home to everything in flames._

At the corner of the room there was a rounded device propped up on a small table, a sheet of paper taped to it. I ripped the paper off, about to crumple it up, but the first line caught my attention.

 _Dear Captain America._

I felt as if everything stopped. It was written in my hand, clearly one of the stupid letters that I had written, though I couldn't remember actually sitting down to write it. My eyes scanned the page furiously as I stood there, my thoughts jumping in every direction. _This is stupid. But this is what you wanted. Why would you ever write this? You're completely in love with him. How could I be? I don't know him. Did I write this? He's everything you want to be, everything that has kept you going all this time. He would burn this lab down. He would take down everything. He would stand up._

I let the letter fall from my fingers and grasped the circular object from the table, scanning the smooth surface. I remembered seeing blueprints for this. My father was into medicine now, that was true, but he'd also dabbled in weaponry. This was a bomb. _What was this letter doing on a bomb?_ I clasped it between my hands and searched the surface with my fingers, trying to find any sort of activation switch. My heart thudded in my chest. I almost cried out in pain. If I blew this up somehow, I would go with it. Did I want that? _What else do you have?_ My thoughts mocked me. But they weren't wrong. What did I have besides this sorry life of experimentation and submission? Would I do this until he was dead? Would I stay here and waste away as he tried countless things on me, most of which wouldn't even work? Would I continue to entertain at his parties, giving my mind and my body away to whoever would please my father? Was this all I was? Pain plagued my fingers as I finally found the switch, a little indention that opened the side of the small capsule and exposed a little blue button. _Not anymore,_ I thought, positioning my finger over it. _I am not yours anymore._

My back collided hard with the wall across the room as flames burst from the device, everything all at once alight with brilliant explosions. My father must have designed it to release multiple smaller explosions after the initial one, fire dancing around the room, though I could hardly see it with the spots seared into my eyes. My ears rang. Something warm trickled across my legs, my face, my arms. I couldn't feel my hands. The cool breeze of Japanese autumn air brushed over my skin, though I couldn't focus any of my senses enough to tell where it was coming from. I could feel myself slipping slowly. Somewhere in the distance I thought I heard the blades of a helicopter.

 _Dear Captain America,_

 _There are things in this world I don't understand. People say that science matters. Other say religion. Some say neither. Everyone has something to say, some opinion, but none of it is real. If that's the case, then what is real? Are you real? Am I? The clock on my bedroom wall is always ticking, the man-made construct of time moving us all forward. What if we didn't have to move forward? Did you move forward when you were frozen, or were you nearly suspended, lost to time and humanity alike, defying every rule and regulation placed upon human kind? I believe I am also suspended. I see time move by but I don't feel its effects. Everything out there moves and I stand still, waiting, watching, doing what I'm told. You spit in the faces of those that told you no. Teach me to be the same. Teach me to be free._

 _Please._

 _Annabelle Green._


	2. Book I Ch 2

Car exhaust. I wasn't used to the smell. When I awoke to it, overwhelming and suffocating, I immediately felt uneasy. I was laying on a hard surface, every inch of my body aching and my head throbbing. I should have been dead. The flashing, searing light of the bomb that had detonated in my father's lab were still fresh in my memory, though the dots of damage that had been left in my eyes were no longer there. I could hear clearly, without ringing. It seemed to me that I was sitting on the rough pavement of a sleek road, the moon high in the sky and casting a faint light down on the white lines of the street so that they reflected back into my tired eyes. I took a painful deep breath in, letting the putrid air fill my lungs, and then breathed it out again in disgust. Easing myself up, using a small sign by the side of the road to help me, I stood. From what I could see of myself in the dark, I was battered and bruised. Dry blood caked my skin in various places. I didn't appear to still be bleeding, though, which I took as a good sign. I turned myself around to examine the other end of the road, a surprising view greeting my aching eyes. Just a little farther down, lit up brightly like decorative lights, were the various buildings of a big city. What city, I wasn't sure. The overwhelming exhaust was starting to make sense. At least that was one thing that I could work out. As for the rest of the situation, why I was here, alive, I had no clue. I started forward towards the blinding lights, my body screaming at me as I went, every step sending a rush of painful shocks up my legs. But I had to move. I didn't know why, but I couldn't just sit there and rot away into the asphalt. No matter how much I wanted to.

The closer I got to the more populated areas of the city, the more I was met with unpleasant sounds and smells. Grease and car horns. Cigarette smoke. Rubber tires. I forced myself over to a nearby bench and sat down, taking in my surroundings, breathing deeply to try to ease some of the pain swelling through my body. A building from behind me emitted a faint thumping sound, most likely the beat of club music. My head seemed to throb in sync with the bass. I tilted back to examine the sky, which was nearly hidden behind all of the buildings. Judging by the light and the position of the moon I guessed it to be one or two in the morning, the fluorescent light from the lamp post near me casting my lonely against the sidewalk. There was a surprising amount of people milling around at this hour, though I could hardly focus my vision enough to properly examine any of them. Strange lights hung around their passing forms. No one tried to communicate. I was too tired to ask for help. Here I was, a girl covered in blood and burns, sprawled across a park bench, and yet no one wanted anything to do with me. I thought I'd been lonely before, secluded in my father's house in a somewhat remote portion of Hokkaido, but this loneliness was something far worse.

If I hadn't gone far I was probably in Chitose, but the skyscrapers that towered overhead seemed too big even for one of Hokkaido's largest cities. The way things looked here reminded me more of Tokyo, though that was an entire island away. If I truly was in Tokyo, someone would have had to bring me here. But who? And why would they have left me out on the pavement, just outside the city? I wished that my mind was clearer so that I could figure things out, but everything was so overwhelming and I was so tired. I hoisted myself up off the bench. The least I could do now was find some place that was open, and I certainly wasn't going to try to go to the club behind me for help. Surely there was some kind of store open at this hour that was even remotely respectable. Or at least a place that would actually help me instead of grabbing at me or trying to sell me off to someone. Come to think of it, that didn't seem that different from what my father had done all these years, giving me to the highest bidder. Metaphorically.

Soon I came across a small store a few blocks down, one of the only few establishments—besides various bars and clubs—that was still lit up from the inside. The sign read 'Candy Love', etched and lit up in frilly pink lettering. I ducked inside quickly, the bell over the door chiming as I entered. I took a deep breath to calm myself and made my way to the counter meeting the eyes of a middle aged Asian woman who was smiling brightly in my direction.

"Hello." She spoke sweetly, her smile not wavering a bit. I nodded at her politely and made my way over to the counter, trying to ignore the various kinds candy on shelves around me. I had always been a sucker for candy; it was part of my childhood that I could never let go. Not to mention that my stomach was unsettled and empty, though I wasn't quite sure if that was hunger or something else. Eating candy would probably just make it worse. I cleared my throat and looked at the woman.

"Where are we?" I asked in Japanese, realizing how stupid of a question it was. The woman looked at me for an agonizingly long time without saying anything, as if I had just performed a magic trick that she didn't understand. She didn't look happy about it. I started wondering if I had said it wrong, if I'd been rude in how I'd asked, and was ready to open my mouth and try again before she spoke up.

"I may be Asian, but I don't speak...whatever that was," she said harshly in English, that bright smile of hers fading. Her words, lined with an American accent, even had an Eastern Coast twinge to them.

"It was Japanese," I answered, slowly, as if confirming to myself that had been the language I was speaking in. Her stare didn't soften.

"I don't speak Japanese."

"Why not?" I was starting to get confused, my head pounding painfully as I tried to think of a solution to this odd situation. Why would a woman working in Tokyo only speak English? Didn't she want to talk to her customers? Did she have a translator that was in the back, taking a bathroom break? And why did she still look so offended?

"Because in America we speak English. This is America. Are you okay? You seem a little disoriented." Slight concern hung over her words, though I doubted it was concern for my condition. She was most likely worried that I was insane due to my disastrous look, and that I was going to rob her candy shop. It took me a minute before I fully understood what she said, though, and I had to replay her words over in my head before fully comprehending them.

"We're in America," I repeated, ignoring her eye rolling. "What part?" There was no possible way I could have come all the way from Japan to America in one night, assuming that it really had only been a few hours. I was somewhat willing to believe that someone had dropped me off in Tokyo, but America? It just wasn't possible. I wasn't even going to suggest that I'd managed to walk across water to get here.

"Manhattan" she said uneasily, tilting her head slightly as she examined my battered face. Her short hair swooped to the side, exposing a large hoop earring on her ear that read 'love, sex, power.' From this angle I also realized that there was a gun in her hands, one she must have pulled out from under the counter. I was starting to think this wasn't exactly a nice, friendly neighborhood candy shop. I'd read things about businesses that laundered money. Or worse, attracted young girls with candy and sold them off as slaves. I took a deep breath and stepped back.

"What day is it?" I asked.

"October twenty second," she answered. It had been the same date when I woke up from my sleeping pill scare. Assuming it was very early morning here, I had only been awake for an hour or two. Getting here in such a short time was scientifically impossible. I swallowed and nodded my head slowly in response to the woman. I was far too tired to think about this now. Besides, I was sure it was in my best interest to get out of here as quickly as possible.

"...thank you." I couldn't come up with anything else to say to her, and I didn't want to argue about where we were or what day it was, no matter how much I refused to believe it. I could have asked her where the hospital was, but I had no desire to speak to her, or anyone, anymore. I slowly turned to walked back out the door, the bell overhead startling me as I left. Once outside I started wandering again, hoping to figure things out as I did. I gathered up the facts in my head, trying to make sense of them. Apparently I had made my way to New York in a few hours, barefoot, after surviving an explosion. It just didn't make any sense. Maybe none of it had really happened. Maybe this was a dream. It had to be. I was still asleep at home, under the influence of my father's sleeping pills.

I cursed at myself and the situation and stopped walking after several blocks, confused and upset. How did I get here? My anger was flaring up easier than it had before, the rage pent up inside of me almost frightening. After all of my years of being trapped I had finally gotten out, apparently. But what now? What could I possibly do to figure things out? I was about to scream in frustration when I heard a snap, then a violent fizz. I tilted my head up in time to see the light post above me pop and go out, sending shattered glass showering towards me. I slid out of the way and watched the pole from a distance, trying to find any object laying around that could have possibly broken the glass. My first assumption was that someone had fired a gun at me, maybe even that little shopkeeper, though I couldn't clearly see any bullets laying around. The few people who were walking nearby clearly had the same idea, some running off in another direction and one throwing themselves to the ground. I quickly moved past them.

Another popped out behind me, followed by two more. Everywhere I went the light posts popped and went out, leaving me in almost complete darkness by the time I reached the end of an alley. Once I was at the sidewalk I closed my eyes and took a few calming breaths, trying to make sense of the situation in my head. I tried to convince myself that it had been gunshots, unsettling as that was, but the absence of anyone actually coming after me in the alley pointed to some other explanation. I collected myself and slowly left the dark alleyway, my mind running in circles. Why was this happening? Was I doing this, somehow? I felt a strange sensation running through my body, like I was being electrocuted, though it didn't hurt. It almost felt warm, and somehow familiar. Jolty. I took a few more deep breaths, focusing in on the area. In my panicked sprint I hadn't realized where I ended up, though what I saw now halted my breath. The strange electric tingling inside of me grew stronger as I lifted my head to see the few letters plastered across the top of the building standing just in front of me, lit up for the entire city to see. Even with my blurred and tired eyes, the word was clear.

STARK

Stark Tower. I could barely believe it, even though I was seeing it with my own two eyes. The building itself was much bigger and brighter than I had ever imagined, and I couldn't help but let my mouth hang open like an idiot. This was the tower I had only seen in photographs and newscasts, the home to the hero that had started it all: Tony Stark. Iron Man. I took a deep breath and walked closer to the building, not really thinking, praying that he didn't have some insane security outside that would kill me the moment I stepped onto his property. Luckily for me, I made my way to the door without any problem. I froze at the doorstep, letting out a shaky breath. I couldn't just knock...could I? It was extremely early in the morning by now, and Tony Stark was most likely sleeping like normal people did at this hour. Not to mention that I was a nobody, some beat up girl that didn't know what was real and what wasn't. He wouldn't let me in even if I did knock. But...I had no money, no shelter, no food, and no friends or family that could help me out. I wasn't going to call my father, no matter how desperate I got. In that moment, getting into Stark Tower seemed like something destined, and if this was all a strange fever dream anyway there wouldn't be any damage.

A strange sort of energy pulsed from the walls of the tower, growing more and more noticeable as I stood there. It almost seemed...alive, like it was breathing in and out gently with the breeze. But it was more than that, as if it was full of tiny connections just like the human body, all lit up and reacting to each other. Of all the strange things that seemed to be happening, I didn't question it. Drawn in by the building, and too tired to stop myself, I placed my hands on the outer wall, letting my eyes fall closed. What I felt radiating from it was amazing, like a colorful flow of energy that was warm and bright. My vision, though it should have been dark with my eyes squeezed shut, exploded with colorful strands of electricity, all dancing across my eyes beautifully. I had never felt anything so wonderful in my life. I could tell that this was Stark's entire system, his entire security, everything that ran his tower...and I could feel it all.

Suddenly, after moments of awe, something popped and the bands of colorful light in my vision started to fade and turn gray. In a matter of a few seconds, they were completely gone. I opened my eyes quickly and looked up to see that the building was no longer lit, like a black hole had swallowed up all of the light. Panic ran through me as I stared at the door. Was this some kind of defense mechanism? Did I only have a moment before something lashed out at me and kicked me off the property? Or..maybe I had killed the power myself. But how could I do that? No, it couldn't have been. My head was reeling. I pulled the door open with ease, despite the voice in my head that told me to just run and find help elsewhere, and walked inside slowly. There didn't seem to be any sign of movement, not that my eyes could pick it up in the dark. Some light from the outside poured in through large windows, but it wasn't enough to expose the entire space. The power outage was apparently building-wide. Maybe it wasn't defense.

This first floor didn't have too much, and I found myself going to the elevator even though I knew it didn't have any power to run it. Surely there were stairs somewhere nearby, but I couldn't make out their shape in the dark. Was anyone even here? I pressed my hand against the sealed elevator doors as if this was going to make any difference. I wanted to slide down onto the floor and sit there forever in the dark. My body was growing increasingly more exhausted, especially after the strange burst that had killed the power. Instead, I just slumped against them, my legs too stiff to let me fall.

"Typically elevators require power to go up. And gosh, golly, something knocked out my power, so no luck there. Don't suppose you know anything about that, mysterious stranger?" The voice startled me, my body almost slipping and falling as I tried to straighten and turn at the same time. A small circular light shined through the darkness, almost near my eye level, and I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. It was Stark's arc reactor. And my exhausted brain was at least aware enough to realize that it was attached to Stark himself.

"I do actually have a back-up generator," he said. I almost collapsed back against the wall, too tired to stay standing. He clapped his hands and the lights came on, blinding me until my eyes gradually adjusted. In the light I realized he was a lot closer to me then I'd expected, his dark eyes staring me down as I took him in. His hair was messy, most likely from sleeping, and the arc reactor glowed faintly through his thin tee-shirt. He wasn't really too much taller than me, but his demeanor made me feel as if he was towering over me as I laid against his wall, too weak to make a run for it now. I felt like a child.

"Does it actually speak?" he asked, an amused tone to his voice. Like an idiot, I could only stand there and gawk, too groggy and starstruck to respond. He reached forward, and for a moment I thought he might grab me, but instead he pressed a small button to my side. The doors I was leaning on folded open and I fell back into the compartment, the breath knocked painfully out of me. Stark stepped over me and somewhat lightly kicked my feet out of the way of the doors, then punched in the button for a higher floor. The rising movement as it started upward sent a wave of nausea over me.

"I'm sure you'll talk eventually," he said as I laid there, quiet, staring up at the bright lights installed on the ceiling. "Whatever you're here for, I'm sure it'll come out. And don't think I'm buying this weak, bloody situation you've got going on. Tricky. You should know I'm smarter than that." He glanced down at me, then continued talking. "If this goes well maybe I'll send you on your way with a cup of coffee or something. You like coffee? Really puts a kick in your step if you get the right stuff. You look like you could use a kick in your step. Maybe." I closed my eyes as he continued on, taking a moment to rest. This certainly felt real. The motion of the elevator, the sound of his voice, the pain in my chest as my heart throbbed, all of it was too vivid to be a dream. But if this truly was real, there were so many things that needed answers. All I wanted to do was curl up and let the elevator take me up, up, up, until the sky swallowed me up. Instead, the doors opened, and I was dragged out.


	3. Book I Ch 3

When I opened my eyes again I was propped up on a couch, my body sinking against the soft cushions. A moment of focus revealed Tony Stark standing over me, peering down at me with one hand on his chin, a quizzical look on his face. I tried to give him a charming smile, completely ridiculous for the situation, but my lips were so tired that I was sure what resulted was nothing short of creepy. If my father had been here he would have scoffed. 'You must always be charming and appealing, no matter the situation. Tired? Perk up. Sad? Put on a smile. There's no use for you being mopey. First impressions are important.' I tried again at the smile, though I wasn't sure anything on my face actually changed.

Stark held his hands behind his back casually and walked around me, looking me over. My body tensed involuntarily. I felt like a criminal being sized up for the chopping block. I didn't move a muscle, hoping not to show any sign of my unease. That was easy considering my exhaustion.

"Average height, young, dark brunette, European features, green eyes, nice build. Look harmless enough. So tell me, how exactly did you manage to power down my tower?" he asked, doing another walk around until he was standing in front of me, crossing his arms over his arc reactor. I tried to keep steady eye contact with him. Shifty eye contact meant shifty intentions. I'd seen a lot of shifty eyes at my father's get-togethers.

"I don't know," I answered quietly. He sighed, though it was sharp and irritated.

"You don't know how you hacked into my entire system? Hard to believe that. Who do you work for?" At the abruptness of his voice an odd shock to move through my spine, fear settling over me. He really was angry, not that I expected any different. A strange hue hung around his form, like streaky lights in the rain. No, not quite. Mist?

"No one," I whispered, then raised my voice for him to hear me better. "I don't work for anyone."

"So, you wanted to break into my tower for your own amusement?"

"I didn't mean to break into your tower."

"Once again, that's hard to believe."

"Mr. Stark I promise I didn't mean to cause you or your tower any harm," I said, making sure to clearly articulate my words, or at least as best I could. My mouth was still having trouble cooperating. His eyebrows knit together in frustration, and his dark eyes bore into mine as we stood for a few moments of silence. I returned the stare, ignoring my heart throbbing in my chest.

"Are you some crazy girl that I slept with ten years ago who still hasn't let it go? You look about my type; some pretty face I found fun to hang around with for a night or two. Listen, I don't know how many times I have to tell you people that I'm in a steady relationship now, and I don't want to have to deal with—"

"It's definitely not that," I said quickly. I would have remembered sleeping with Tony Stark. I think. My father filtered a lot of people through his parties.

"Then why are you here?" he said finally, a bit quieter.

"...I'm not sure." The small burst of confidence I'd had was dwindling. It was hard to appear tough when I didn't have any valid information to back myself up. Stark sighed yet again and shook his head. He turned around and began pacing the room with heavy steps. My anxiety was becoming almost crippling.

"Jarvis. Show me the video footage of the front door before the systems were shut down," he called, removing his hands from behind his back to pop his knuckles.

"Yes, Mr. Stark. Right away." The voice came from within the ceiling, male and with a strong British accent. I jumped in surprise and I looked up, as if expecting to find some man dangling from the roof, but instead I found nothing. I tilted my head back down and looked at Stark, my eyes wide with curiosity. The corner of his mouth raised in a smirk.

"That's Jarvis." he responded, as if this was enough explanation for me to figure out who Jarvis was.

"What is he?" I asked, pressing for more.

"Just A Rather Very Intelligent System." He emphasized the first letter of every word, which explained the origin of the nickname. I nodded my head slowly, trying to understand. From that I gathered Jarvis was a program, but I couldn't tell much else.

"Clever."

"Of course. Comes with the name." He shot me a smile, which I attempted to return. He sat down on one of the nice couches, draping his arm over the arm rest to get a better look at me, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"So," he started slowly, tapping his fingers along the edge of the couch, "Name?"

"Annabelle Sawyer Green."

"Age?"

"Twenty two." I paused, remembering the birthday I'd had barely a week earlier. "…twenty three."

"Gender?"

"Female," I said slowly, running a hand self-consciously through my thick hair.

"Just making sure."

"Right."

"You live around here?"

"No." I didn't elaborate, and he didn't ask any more. I was grateful. Though I was still exhausted, some energy was starting to well up inside of me, enough for me to start thinking about all that was happening. I couldn't piece anything together. And the more I tried to figure out the logic of how I could me here, my heart beat menacingly in my chest. I'd had trouble with my memory before, forgetting dates and events fairly frequently, but it didn't make it any less agitating. I wanted everything to be clear, not the blurry, muddled mess my memories usually were. I tried to just forget about things for the moment and live in the present, take things here as they came, but my mind was running too fast for me to refine my thought process.

"Jarvis sure is taking a while. I programmed him to be better than this. Maybe whatever you did messed with his systems in more ways than I thought," Stark mumbled, dropping his head back against the couch. I had the sudden urge to sink into the floor and disappear from existence. Not only was I here due to a series of events that defied logic, but I had also damaged the brilliant system that one of the smartest men in the world had created. Not to mention that I'd been obsessed with glimpses of information and news about him for years, and now I was in front of him, being accused of sabotage and interference.

"Where have I heard of you before?" he asked. Clearly he was determined not to leave any silence, much to my displeasure.

"It's a common name," I responded sheepishly. He tapped his chin. I sighed. "…My father is a scientist," I added.

"Where does he work?"

"He has his own lab in Hokkaido. He makes medicinal supplies."

"Theodor Green, correct? I remember now," he said casually, as if he'd really known all along and only wanted to make me feel uncomfortable.

"It's actually Harold," I mumbled, and, to my surprise, he let out a short laugh.

"I see why he uses Theodor." I was shocked that he shared my father's logic. He reached over the arm rest and grabbed a glass of liquid that I hadn't noticed was there before, bringing it to his lips and taking a long drink. "That explains your quirky little accent, then." I looked up at him, my attention wavering between the glass and his face.

"You know my father?" I asked, ignoring his remark about my accent. I didn't know if he meant quirky in a positive or negative way and, honestly, I didn't want to know. Sure, my accent was a weird mixture of several dialects—dominantly German—but that didn't make it bad. Right? I hoped not. It made me cringe to think that I might sound like a complete idiot when speaking English because of the accent.

"Yep. Met him a few times. Wasn't too fond of the guy, no offense, but I don't think he liked me either. We had...conflicting opinions." He brought the glass away from his face and set it down on the table again, the liquid sloshing around for a few seconds before it settled. I uneasily focused my attention on his drink to avoid making eye contact with him.

"He didn't like you at all," I responded. I examined the glass for a few seconds longer and then looked down at my feet, thinking through all the negative comments he'd made over the years regarding Stark specifically. My father's temper and envy often got the best of him.

"That's what I thought. So, he's German, right? What's up with the name 'Green'? Last time I checked, that wasn't German."

"His father was adopted by an Irish couple," I said, not sure why he was even asking. Why was he trying to analyze my name? Was it supposed to give something away about me? "But yes, my father is one hundred percent German. And very proud of that," I continued after a few seconds. My father even had a German flag hanging in his room, as if he needed a reminder of where he came from. Or maybe he was trying to remind me of where I came from. After all, I had been born in Germany. Though I'd always felt closer to my mother's side, most likely because she actually gave me the time of day when she was alive. She had been kind. My father was not that.

"Interesting. I suppose it's good to be passionate about your country. I know a few people that would appreciate that, one in particular." He took a prolonged sip of his drink, wiping his mouth. "I heard that your father's lab had an accident. Is that true?"

"Hm?" I blinked and lifted my eyes to him to see he was watching me carefully, sweat beading on my neck by the intensity of his stare.

"An explosion? It was on the news." He laced his fingers together and watched my face curiously. I swallowed hard and bobbed my head up and down a few times.

"Yes. There was," I said stiffly. I couldn't imagine how the news had covered it already, but had to remind myself that live coverage was a common thing. Though, that would have meant that Tony was up early in the morning watching Japanese live coverage, which seemed hard to believe. Maybe he was interested in that sort of thing. Or maybe the explosion had been a bigger deal than I thought. Guilt came over me as I thought about the possibility of the explosion hurting anyone outside of our home. Maybe the fires had spread and engulfed a whole chunk of the island.

Stark opened his mouth to ask something else when the wide T.V. in the room flashed on, silencing him before he could continue.

"Sorry for the wait, Mr. Stark. Here is your video footage." Jarvis's voice boomed around us, echoing in the large room. I turned my attention to the screen, somewhat curious about what the cameras had caught. The energy pulsing through me then, and now, was still extremely strange to me. I had no idea how I was going to explain it if he asked. I didn't understand it myself; there was no way I could tell him about the 'strands' of energy flowing through his tower without him thinking I was a complete lunatic. I hoped the footage would show something more easily explainable.

The image of me standing outside of the tower faded in on the screen. My hand in the video was pressed lightly against the frame of the tower, my eyes shut tight, a peaceful look on my face. I didn't look suspicious, more like someone who was just trying to focus on thinking. In a way, that had been exactly what I was doing. The video footage continued like this for a few more moments, until there came a sudden jolt. For a brief moment my body on the screen seemed to flash and light up, which was the last thing that was caught on the tape before the screen flickered out and went black. I quickly looked to Tony so I could attempt to explain what we were seeing, but he was still concentrated on the screen. I swallowed my makeshift explanations and left him to his thoughts. Maybe he could figure out what I couldn't. Maybe he could help me find out exactly what was going on with my body, and why.

"Jarvis, play that last bit again," he said seriously, "and pause when that light is first captured."

"Yes sir." The video rewound itself and paused on the scene Tony asked for, the footage even more fascinating now that it was still. The bright, seemingly otherworldly light engulfed my entire body, as well as a few feet around me. The entire front of Stark tower was bathed in the odd light, which I was clearly the source of. How, I didn't know. Tony narrowed his eyes and stared intently at the screen, stroking his chin lightly as he examined, deep in thought. I watched him, tensed and afraid for what he was going to say. There was no doubt he was puzzled, which wasn't a good sign. Scientists didn't like things they couldn't explain.

"Is that some sort of electrical device? One that unleashes an extreme amount of energy, enough to kill my system?" he asked slowly, still looking at the screen, though it was obvious the question was directed towards me. I opened my mouth to defend myself and insist that I hadn't purposefully done it, but Jarvis interrupted me.

"No, sir. I'm afraid there is no such device. A device with that amount of energy would most likely be visible, much larger than something that could be stored out of sight. That we know of, at least." As he finished I shut my mouth again, at a loss for words. Had I really been able to release that much energy? I didn't even know how I was capable of doing something like that, and I honestly didn't believe it. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't humanly possible. There had to be some other explanation. Just like everything else that had happened this day already, I was tempted to believe it was all a dream.

"I see." Stark finally looked away from the screen and focused his eyes on me. I stared back, albeit tiredly, wishing I could know exactly what he was thinking. It would have been nice to get some sort of mind reading powers, instead of whatever the heck I was dealing with now. I guess even superheroes didn't get what they wanted. Then again, I wasn't a superhero. I didn't know what I was. Wake up, Annabelle.

"Well, I guess there is no other choice," he said. With that he stood up swiftly and grabbed a briefcase off of the side table, clicking a button near the handle, which flashed a few times and made metallic clicking sounds. I backed away slowly, suddenly fearful of whatever he had hiding in that suitcase. I had a feeling it wasn't good.

"What are you-" I started, but before I could finish my sentence the Iron Man suit had formed over him and latched into place, the metal mask covering his face. He seemed so much more inhuman now, like a metal man with a cold stare and no heart. He held his hand up and immediately fired an energy beam at me, the bright light blinding me. I barely made it out of the way in time, a scream escaping my lips as I ducked for cover. Something was burning, and I had the unsettling idea that it was probably my hair, singed by the heat. Another beam hit the wall behind me, a few pieces of rubble exploding around me, dust clogging my lungs. I coughed and stumbled back. I tried to position myself defensively and ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, but before I could he flew forward and smashed me against the wall, my back cracking painfully. My head spun and black spots danced across my vision as he pressed me against the wall, pain jolting through my body. His metal covered arm was firm against my neck, and still warm from charging the energy beam he had fired. Was he trying to kill me? I began to panic, and I could feel the spark of electricity flowing through my blood once again as it had before. This time, though, the energy seemed stronger and more defensive, reminding me almost of an adrenaline rush. Before I could think to stop myself I released a significant amount of energy through my fingertips, the power popping and fizzing up my arm until it entered Stark's suit. I could feel the hair on my arms start to raise with the static, and I clenched my teeth to keep from passing out from the sudden overwhelming exhaustion that came over me. Straying my attention from myself, I tried to look at Tony's suit the way I had with the tower earlier. It only took me a moment of focus before I could feel all the little strands of light, electrical connections, and it began to die down quickly. Within moments the suit stopped glowing and lost its mechanical hum, crumpling to the ground. The metal clanked together noisily as it settled and then fell still, with no sound from the man on the inside.

"Mr. Stark!" I yelled, dropping to my knees next to the suit. My back still ached immensely from the wall, but I pushed through the pain and shook his shoulders harshly, gripping at the metal. I got no reply for a few seconds, and the prickling sensation of panic washed over me. Had I killed him? I couldn't have; I still felt a sort of presence in the room. I beat my hands against the metal in hopes of a response, even if it was a violent one. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of panic, the suit started to retract back into its briefcase form. Mr. Stark, now back to the way he had been before, sat up slowly, his eyes at the same level as mine.

"Are you okay?" I asked frantically, hoping I hadn't hurt him or damaged his arc reactor in any way. Killing or hurting him was something I most certainly couldn't live with. He stared at me for a while, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, and then flashed me a white-toothed grin.

"That's some power you've got there kid." he sputtered.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I said, feeling like an idiot. The rush of the energy was gone now, and that exhaustion was even stronger. I was having trouble even keeping up with English right now. I wanted the comfort of speaking in German.

"Did you see what you just did? You killed my suit."

"I apologize," I said quietly, feeling ashamed. Was he expecting that apology? I could have killed him, after all. But I had a feeling he was going after something different.

"No, no, it's fine. It's amazing, actually. You don't have any weapon on you, yet you did that." Tony stood up and offered me his hand, which I took carefully and let him pull me up to my feet. A wave of nausea rolled over me, but I ignored it the best I could and focused on his words.

"There has to be some kind of explanation for it, no human can do something like that." My voice shook as I spoke, tears of confusion and pain suddenly brimming in my eyes. Everything was catching up to me now, or maybe it had been there this whole time, waiting for a moment to attack. I was about to have an emotional fit if I couldn't control myself.

Tony shot me a look that seemed to be something semi-sympathetic.

"I was watching the news about an hour ago. That's when I heard about your father's lab accident. And I heard something else that I found interesting. It went something like this, from what I understood." He cleared his throat and tried his best to sound like a female reporter. "Along with the destruction of his property and much of his lab research, Dr. Green also lost his daughter in the explosion. Judging by the type of explosives and the fact that she was thought to be in the same room where the explosion initially took place, it is certain she died on impact. No body has been found. We are unsure how the explosion started, though some suspect it was the girl herself who did it as an act of suicide." He finished, that uneasy chill running through my spine. I repeated the words in my head a few times, thinking them over. If the news presented me as dead that meant the general population thought I was dead. And my father was part of that population. I took a sharp breath in and slowly lowered myself down onto the couch, my head spinning. I wasn't dead, even though I very well should have been. I had nowhere to run now. I was non-existent. Maybe it was better this way. After all, I really had wanted to disappear.


	4. Book I Ch 4

I felt very out of place sitting in Tony Stark's kitchen in the early morning, the dark sky making the dim-lit room seem smaller than it actually was. Really, this place was huge. I sat there nervously and focused my attention on the window, knowing the sun wouldn't come out for at least a few more hours. Mr. Stark—or 'Tony,' as he'd instructed me to call him—had been running around the building making phone calls after I explained to him everything that happened to me, though I left out the parts about my father's generally abusive behavior and habit of using me as a test subject. After that he told me to sit at the kitchen table and wait for a while, even after I protested about staying. 'Help yourself to any of my food. I have a wide variety,' he told me. Not wanting to cause him any more trouble, I settled for a bag of potato chips. Even that didn't seem appealing to me, though, not to mention that I wasn't even very hungry. My stomach was still in the state it was when I'd visited the candy store, or maybe even worse. The chip bag now laid untouched on the table. Even though I was used to being by myself, there was something about being in someone else's home that made me uneasy, even without considering the fact that the owner of this home was some kind of extremely famous superhero. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes to calm my waves of anxiety. I still hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, even though that was all I wanted to do right now.

Finally, Tony came back into the kitchen and sat in the chair across from me, lacing his hands together as I forced my eyes open to look at him. He watched me curiously, as if he was looking for something that would surprise him. It made me feel extremely uncomfortable, that unwavering gaze of his, so I spoke.

"Is there something you need?" I started, slowly. Tony seemed to snap out of a trance, his eyes foggy. I had to wonder if he was as exhausted as I was. Surely he hadn't gotten enough sleep to be up and about so early dealing with me. Maybe he hadn't even slept at all.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"No," I lied. _You idiot,_ I thought to myself.

"You know, I think you should go take a shower." he continued. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to grin and say he was joking. He didn't.

"Do I...smell really bad?" I took a piece of my hair and sniffed it, met with the somewhat gross smell of burnt hair and ocean water. I winced. "Okay, you're right," I said. He nodded his head.

"Hop to it, then."

"...right. Okay."

"It's up the stairs and to the right. Can't miss it. But if you do, just ask Jarvis for help. He's smart." He gave me a somewhat wild and mysterious smile, my unease getting stronger. I nodded and slowly stood up, giving him a sidelong glance and deciding not to comment on the fact that he had just called a machine 'smart'. I had a feeling he was just indirectly complimenting his own genius. That reminded me too much of my father.

"Thank you very much," I mumbled as I started towards the stairs, grabbing hold of the railing to steady myself. My body was starting to complain more and more with every move I made. Of course, I wasn't going to tell Tony this.

"Take your time!" he yelled to me. I felt a bit put off by his abruptness but once again chose not to comment, making my way up the stairs and looking around for the bathroom as soon as I reached the top. He had said it was on the right, but there were four doors on the right. I opened the first one, peeking my head inside and looking around. Luckily for me, it was the bathroom. It was huge and extremely nice, just like the rest of the house, the floor and counter made of a creamy color that I thought to be marble. The cool stone felt nice against my sore feet, and I stood still for a moment before turning and facing the mirror. I was startled by my reflection. Staring back at me were my big green eyes, though they looked sadder than usual and very bloodshot. My face was marked with dark burn lines, though it didn't appear my skin was actually damaged. Thank goodness. My wavy hair stuck up in different places, singed by the fire in a few spots. I was a mess.

I took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror, not able to stand looking at myself any longer. I stripped off my clothes, letting them fall into an unorganized heap on the tile. They were toasted already from the flames of the explosion, and I didn't see any reason to fold them or even pick them up off of the floor. I brushed them to the side with my foot and stepped into the gigantic shower, pulling the glass door firmly shut behind me. The first thing I noticed was the complicated panel of controls fixed in the wall of the shower, and dread rolled over me as I realized I had no idea how to even start it. Why in the world did a shower have to be so complicated? I bit my lip, which was unbelievably dry, and nervously reached forward to turn the biggest knob. It did nothing. Frustrated, I began turning more knobs, hoping for some kind of reaction. I got none.

"Oh come on..." I mumbled. I pressed a few more buttons, wishing Tony had at least informed me how to run his shower, my eyes burning more and more with each agitating moment. For the second time tonight, anger was getting the best of me. I pressed one more button, which was apparently the 'on' button. Suddenly I was being sprayed with spurts of boiling hot water, scalding my already sensitive skin. I squealed and leaped up and down, furiously pressing buttons once again, hoping to eventually find a decent temperature. I flipped a little switch on the side of the panel that looked promising, yet the little shoots of water kept coming. I couldn't even tell where they were coming from. All I knew was that they were absolutely everywhere, and nothing I did seemed to make them any less obnoxious. Finally, after about a minute more of pain and scalding, I remembered what Tony had said: 'Ask Jarvis for help'. I smacked my fist against the stone lining the sides of the shower, clenching my teeth.

"JARVIS!"

"Yes, Ms. Green. How may I be of assistance?" Jarvis's voice boomed through the walls, only slightly drown out by the sound of the water.

"Fix the shower!" I was about to apologize for my forceful words, but I remembered that he was only a robot and kept my mouth shut. Besides, as soon as I opened my mouth I got a painful shot of water right into it. Looked like my body wasn't going to be the only thing burned.

"Right away Ms. Green." Jarvis responded calmly. Almost instantly, the shower stopped spurting water at me, the main shower head sputtering on. The water fell softly against my skin, much cooler than it had been previously.

"Let me know if you require any other assistance," he said. With that, the voice was gone, though I knew now that he was readily available whenever I needed him. I was sure that would come in handy. If the shower was this complicated, I didn't want to know what the rest of the house was like.

I finished quickly, making sure to ask Jarvis to turn off the water this time. The steam billowed around me as I pushed the glass door open, wrapping a towel around my body as I stepped out onto the tile. I carefully tucked the corners of my towel in to get it to stay, my fingers brushing across one of the many bruises on my body. I ignored the faint pain and made my way over to the mirror, looking myself over again. I immediately found myself looking around my body, checking for any of my bruises that were exposed. It had become a habit for me to do a 'bruise check', where I would make sure that all of my bruises were covered or concealed with makeup. It was one of the many routines in my daily life. I didn't see much of a reason to try to cover them now, though, because I knew I would be able to blame the explosion. Nothing like a good explosion to keep my father off the hook.

I shifted my attention to my wrist, which had been throbbing dully due to a break in the bone. It had gradually gotten better in the past few hours, though, which I was grateful for. My adrenaline must have gone to work. I gently bent my wrist back and forth, making sure it was healing straight, which it seemed to be. I had broken it a couple weeks ago, though the pain was just now starting to subside. I dropped my wrist gently and let my hand fall by my side as I moved away from the mirror, suddenly wondering what I was going to wear. The clothes I came in were nowhere to be found, and I had nothing else with me. There was no way I was going to go downstairs in only a towel. I knew enough about Tony Stark's past to know that wasn't a good idea.

"Jarvis? May I have some clothes?" I asked slowly, the fact that Jarvis was everywhere still freaking me out a little. It was weird to know that something was always watching. Creepy, actually. At least at my father's house I had time completely to myself, but here it seemed like Tony could be watching at any moment. Did that make this place more repressive? I caught myself thinking about pan-optic prisons, where the inmate never knew if they were being watched or not. It was supposed to encourage good behavior. Was that Tony's intention for me here?

"I was just arranging them for you. Mr. Stark does not own many articles of women's apparel, so you will have to make do with this until tomorrow." Jarvis answered. A mechanical arm lowered itself from one of the ceiling panels and dropped a pair of folded clothes on the counter, brushing them off before retracting back into the roof. "Please excuse my intrusion, Ms. Green."

"That's okay," I said under my breath, walking over to look at the clothes to examine them. The first article of clothing was a simple, low cut black tank top. I unfolded the next, finding that they were a pair of dark shorts that seemed extremely too short for my comfort. I sighed heavily and glanced at the undergarments that had been laying under the clothes, my eyes widening. They were a matching silky black, little frills of material lining the edges. I lowered my hand and slowly lifted the bra off of the counter, holding it away from me as if it were something dead. "...I don't even want to know why Tony has these..."

"Mr. Stark always keeps at least one outfit in case of situations like these." Jarvis answered, still startling me even though I had somewhat expected him to answer.

"Situations like these," I repeated, wondering just how many strange things Tony got himself into. I dropped the bra back onto the counter. There really wasn't any other choice besides wearing them, though, so I groaned and slipped into the clothes, trying not to feel too violated. I wasn't used to clothes like this, sure, but a lot of girls dressed this way on a daily basis. I could last for one night. Or maybe more, considering I had nothing, and no money to go out with to buy more. Looking at myself in the mirror, observing what a mess I was, I tried to feel grateful that I wasn't still out on the street. If I had to get used to something like this, so be it.

I found a hairbrush under the counter, running it through my dark hair a few times in an attempt to fix it before setting the brush aside again. There were parts of my hair that I definitely couldn't fix with just a brush, and I decided I was going to have to chop some of it off. There was a pair of scissors that looked adequate in one of the drawers, and I did a few quick snips of the most damaged hair. At least a little fixing was better than nothing. If I ever made it out of this situation, I'd be sure to go to a hairdresser to get the rest of it fixed. I wearily picked up the hairdryer, knowing that styling it would make it look a bit better, but I recalled all of my mishaps with electronics already today and set it aside, not wanting to take the risk. If my 'powers' had been able to knock out Tony's whole system, I didn't want to find out what they would do to a simple hairdryer. Besides, Tony was the only one who was going to see me, and I didn't think he would mind if I left my hair wet. I checked myself once more in the mirror, deciding I looked presentable, then opened the door and walked back out into the hall, tugging the ridiculous shorts down as much as I could to make myself feel more comfortable. They barely fit, due to my somewhat larger hips, but at least I got them buttoned. I made my way down the flight of stairs I had walked up earlier, running a hand through my damp hair as I turned the corner to enter the room I had last seen Tony in.

"Thank you for allowing me to.." I started, but stopped talking and froze where I was standing as soon as I entered the room, my mouth gaping open. What been empty not twenty minutes before now held a couple more people. The two new men in the room stopped their conversation with Tony and turned towards me, giving me a similar once-over to check if I was a threat or not. I made a conscious effort to close my mouth as I stood stiffly, wishing even more now that Tony would have had the decency to buy clothes that were a little less revealing. He could have warned me that he was going to have company, at least. Not that I had much of a right to know, I suppose. Still, this company was something I sincerely wished he had informed me of. I was starting to feel woozy again.

"...So...what have we here, Tony?" the first man spoke up, running a hand through his curly brown hair. I recognized him instantly as Dr. Banner. Yet another scientist my father despised. He was wearing a purple button up shirt, his sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. He didn't look like the kind of man the media portrayed him as these days; the outbreak of his 'alter ego,' the Hulk, certainly got a lot of negative media coverage. Tony shot a playful grin at him.

"What does it look like I have?" Tony replied casually.

"A young woman?" Dr. Banner raised an eyebrow, still inspecting me.

"Yes, it would appear so, wouldn't it?" he responded.

"You'd better not be cheating on Pepper, Tony. I'll have to beat you into next week." The second man, a blonde, shot Tony a harsh glare. I wanted to ask who he was, but then I noticed what he was wearing. Both his hair and his clothing were old fashioned, neat, but his build and demeanor were the most recognizable things of all. That, and those brilliant blue eyes. I grasped the edge of the couch firmly, my head spinning. He was Captain America.

"I'm not cheating on Pepper." Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "And I'd like to see you try."

"We could go right now, Stark."

"Oh and by the way, Thor will be here soon. He has some portal issues." Tony added, ignoring the comment. My eyes darted around the room as I held the couch, my thoughts racing. I looked like hell. There were important people here, people so important that I could hardly fathom it, and I looked like I was a high class hooker who had just crawled out of some wreckage. I glanced at Tony frantically as the room fell silent, not sure what he wanted me to say. Was I supposed to talk to them? Or did he want me to leave, so they could talk amongst themselves? That would explain why he told me to take my time in the shower. I suddenly wished I'd taken an eternity in there. Dr. Banner shook his head lightly and stepped towards me, holding out his hand.

"I'm Bruce Banner. Although you may only know me as the angry green guy." He smiled politely and shook my hand, his surprisingly gentle. I nodded and cleared my dry throat.

"Of course. I'm familiar with your work, Dr. Banner." I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. My heart, ever beating furiously in my chest, made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack right here. Banner—or Bruce, I guess—let go of my hand and stepped back, nudging at Captain America gently. The blonde made his way towards me, my heart pounding in my chest harder and harder as he got closer. He flashed me a gorgeous smile, stopping about a foot and a half in front of me.

"Steve Rogers, ma'am," he said politely, holding out his hand. I stared at him in wonder, not sure if I could hold my excitement in much longer without bursting like a balloon. Captain America was going to shake my hand. Captain America, the comic man who I'd grown incredibly fond of, the man I was sure was dead, the man I wrote stupid letters to…He was even more handsome without his mask on, and I almost couldn't move my hand to shake his. It was an influx of intense emotions, and it was making my eyes burn again. I usually wasn't one to get so overworked over something so silly…but there was something inside of me that was going crazy. I noticed Bruce watching me, his face curious and a little amused. Slowly I raised my hand and took his, the blood running to my face and making my cheeks warm. He squeezed my hand lightly, smiling a little. I nodded furiously, pulling my hand back to my side as soon as he released it.

"I'm familiar with your work as well," I stuttered. Tony cleared his throat loudly from the other side of the room, interrupting the moment and catching my attention. I turned and looked at him, Steve doing the same.

"Are you going to introduce yourself to the guys? Or do I have to do it for you?" Tony yelled across the room at me, even though I could have clearly heard him if he had spoken normally.

"Oh," I said, embarrassed, straightening out my back and shoulders to look more formal. I took a deep breath and turned back to the two men, giving them a polite smile and trying to stop shaking. "I'm Annabelle Green." I said, holding my breath for a moment. The words had still come out uncontrollably shaky, which in combination with my accent made my words almost too hard to understand. "Annabelle Sawyer Green." I repeated, a bit clearer. As soon as I finished speaking Bruce's eyes widened in curiosity, and Steve, as strange as it felt to call him that, looked mildly confused. Both seemed to be taken aback by my introduction, examining me for a few seconds before they turned to look at Tony, who was grinning ear to ear. They seemed to plunge into a silent conversation as I just stood there, once again not entirely sure what to do with the situation, jolting nervously like a rabid animal.

Finally, after a few moments of awkward silence, Steve turned back around to face me, butterflies fluttering through my stomach.

"You're the girl who died," he said. I nodded, though I was too nervous to really process what he had said. "But you clearly survived." I blinked and focused more on the conversation, taking a deep breath.

"Not sure how or why, but I guess I did," I responded quietly. Tony must have shared the news with them. Unless by some strange coincidence they had also been watching Japanese live coverage in the middle of the night. That seemed unlikely.

"There's always a reason," Steve replied.

"I suppose," I said, lowering my voice even more. Talking about my 'almost death' made me feel even sicker, my heart pounding in my ears. I saw Tony check his watch curiously, narrowing his eyes for a few seconds and then sighing loudly, dramatically.

"I wonder when Thor is going to be here. He's missing out on all the fun," Tony mumbled.

"We're having fun?" I asked, only half aware at what I had said. After a few seconds I flushed and looked down, though I heard a few chuckles from across the room. I smiled a little to myself and looked down at my outfit uneasily, still paranoid about how I looked. "Do you have any other clothes I could wear? Maybe some longer pants?" I asked slowly, lifting my head, hoping he wasn't offended by my dislike of his clothing. Tony shook his head, clearly not bothered by my asking.

"Unfortunately I don't. I have Pepper's stuff, but I didn't think you'd fit, because, you're…" He made a weird hourglass motion with his hands, my cheeks flushing. Steve whacked his shoulder, making him stumble a bit to the side. He gave him a look with wide eyes, holding his hands out to the side in a 'what gives' gesture.

"I think Pepper might have left a robe here. You can go look for it if you want. It'll be either in my room or the bathroom," he added, then looked at Steve for approval. He only shook his head. I started up the stairs, eager to get out what I was wearing. Besides, I didn't think I could handle being around them anymore. I was going to explode.

Climbing the stairs again made me realize how tired I was becoming, my eyes heavy, but I couldn't possible fall asleep with the new developments. There was so much I had to ask these men, things about their lives and how to deal with abilities and everything in between. By the sound of it, they had a lot to ask me, too. I had to find something to keep me awake. Maybe coffee...or chocolate. Or maybe I could do some intense exercises, though that didn't sound appealing at all at the moment. There had to be something to keep me up.

I got that 'something' when I reached the top of the stairs and immediately ran headfirst into a hard mass, stumbling backwards and tripping over my sore feet. I let out a small scream in shock and flailed my arms as I tipped backwards, down the stairs, but someone grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back up before I had the chance to roll. I blinked a few times to focus my eyes, finding myself staring straight into the godly face of Thor. Yes, Thor. I recognized the face immediately, chiseled and perfect, his blonde hair falling slightly past his shoulders, his crystal blue eyes gleaming. The news had mixed feelings about him, but I definitely knew how I felt. If he was a hero he was good in my book. I swallowed hard and simply stared at him as he held my shoulders firmly, a look of shock crossing his face.

"I apologize. You nearly fell down the stairs," he spoke, his voice like melted chocolate even though it was lined with guilt. I shook my head quickly, taking in his features yet again. A strand of his golden hair fell across his concerned face, his eyes hovering over me.

"It's okay. I wasn't…looking," I sputtered, my words tripping over each other like my clumsy feet. Thor released his hold on my shoulder, making sure I was balanced before taking a step back and standing up straight. He looked so regal, it was hard not to bow down and kiss his feet.

"I do not believe we've met," he spoke up, squinting his eyes to get a better look at me.

"I'm Annabelle Green," I answered quickly, flashing him one of my fake, polite smiles. He gave me a grand smile in return, his teeth unimaginably white.

"So you're the reason we are all here. Stark called us all because he said he wanted us to meet someone important." I flushed as he paused for a second, raising an eyebrow. "Are you...sparking?" he asked. I quickly looked down at my hands, which were indeed sparking with a strange electric blue color, like little shocks of electricity running over my skin. I raised my hands and turned them back and forth, observing the little shocks as they occurred. There was definitely a sensation running through them, perhaps triggered by the sudden shock of almost falling down the stairs, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. Thor took my hands in his and ran his thumbs over my skin, enthralled. I was just as intrigued as he was, my eyes glued to the tiny sparks as they licked across my skin. They weren't necessarily behaving like electricity usually did, forming strange arcs and generating in various places. The thought occurred that I was generating them, though the explanations my brain tried to run through, tired as it was, didn't make any sense. Could an explosion do that?

"This is interesting." Thor lifted his eyes and met mine, giving me another smile before suddenly and unnecessarily grabbing me and swinging me up over his shoulder before I could protest, running me down the stairs at a terrifying speed. I squeaked in surprise and held on for dear life as he bounded down multiple steps at a time, my hair whipping up around my face. As we reached the bottom he set me down, grabbing me by the shoulders and spinning me around to face the others, my body swaying.

"What is she?" he demanded, squeezing my shoulders slightly. I was still flustered from being picked up, and, quite honestly, from everything else in this day, so I could do nothing but stand there quietly. Tony crossed his arms and grinned widely, leaning against the back of the couch.

"I have no idea."


	5. Book I Ch 5

Everyone in the room watched me curiously, my face flushing deeply for what seemed to be the millionth time tonight. I was going to have to learn to keep the blushing to a minimum if I didn't want to look like a tomato during my time here. I took a deep breath and tried not to move as Thor picked up a piece of my still damp hair, studying it as if it were something he had never seen before. He dropped it when he was finished, moving behind me and putting a hand to my bare neck, his fingers reaching through my hair. A chill ran down my spine and I stiffened, trying to keep still. Clearly sensing my nerves, Bruce finally spoke up.

"Annabelle, would you like to sit down? You look tired." He smiled at me and I gave a weak one in response, my teeth clenched.

"I'm fine," I said, barely louder than a whisper. Bruce and Tony exchanged a look before Tony cleared his throat, smacking Thor on the arm. Thor pulled his hand back from my neck and looked up at Tony, who gave him a stern look. He moved from behind me to stand in front of me, still studying from afar.

"It's a really comfortable couch, I promise," Tony offered, that amused expression coming over his face again. He seemed to be getting enjoyment out of my unease. I looked down at my shaking legs, taking a deep breath in, and then nodded. Sitting was probably a very good idea. I just hoped I wouldn't fall asleep the moment I made contact with the cushions. I wasn't sure what the couch was made of, but it was magical. Still, I managed to sit and stay upright, fighting off the sleep as it threatened me. The others followed and sat near me, still observing like I was some science experiment. Once again, Bruce was the one to start the conversation.

"So, Annabelle, how old are you?" He pulled a small tablet from a nearby table, sliding his finger across the screen.

"Twenty three," I said.

"And how tall?" He retrieved his glasses from his front pocket, sliding them into place.

"Around one hundred sixty eight centimeters, I think."

"…and in feet?" Steve asked.

"About five-six, Steve," Bruce answered. He nodded.

"Can you do anything unusual?" Bruce asked, looking up at me from his tablet.

"I…definitely. But I don't know how. It only started happening today," I paused and thought about it, then continued. "After the explosion." It felt weird to say it so plainly. Not that it didn't fit in with everything else going on. Nothing about any of this made sense, no matter what angle I looked at it from. At this point I was just going to focus on saying things outright without trying to over-analyze.

"Tell them how you managed to get to New York. And what caused the explosion," Tony chimed in. I swallowed and nodded, clearing my throat. I knew I shouldn't have told him all the details of what happened. I didn't really want to explain it again. But, I had no choice now.

"My father occasionally dabbles in weaponry. He did something that I particularly didn't like and I...lost control of myself. I located an experimental explosive in his lab and detonated it out of spite," I muttered. Steve raised an eyebrow, and Bruce wrote something down on his tablet. "…There must have been some chemicals or something strange in the lab, however. Not unlike your situation, Dr. Banner," I continued, though I realized after the fact that I didn't want to make it seem like I was in a similar position. I wasn't, was I? "I found myself awake and stranded in the city. I feared for my life, paranoid, and found myself here. Under some strange circumstances I suppose I, being affected by whatever chemical surely was in my father's lab, managed to deactivate all electrical systems in Stark Tower. Tony brought me in, attacked me to prove my abilities, and now we're here." I started talking a little faster towards the end, hoping none of them thought I was a horrible liar. When I finished, though, they stayed silent. It took a few moments before anyone said anything, and that person, of course, was Bruce.

"Can you explain how you hacked Tony's tower?"

"I don't really know how to. It's fuzzy. But I could... _feel_ the energy moving through the building, like a sort of stream, and I got ahead of myself to the point that I somehow altered it, and..." I put my head in my hands, more confused than ever as I tried to explain myself. All of my thoughts were so jumbled in my head, and trying to make sense of everything was making my temple throb. "I don't know how to explain it. I'm sorry." My eyelids felt weighted, threatening to close at any moment and send me into a deep sleep.

"It's okay. You look exhausted. Do you have anywhere to stay for the night?" he asked. I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing my eyes shut for only a moment. Even this was too long. I had trouble opening them back up.

"My father either thinks I'm dead or hates me for what I did. No matter what, there is no way I can go home. I guess if I could somehow get my father's credit card information I could rent a hotel room and-"

"She's staying here," Tony interrupted me, looking at Bruce. He nodded. I looked at Tony in surprise, though a wave of relief rolled over me. If I had somewhere safe like this to stay, maybe I would have time to sit and figure things out for myself. That was all I wanted at this point. That, and sleep. The excitement from before had worn off.

"You'd let me stay here?" I asked, to which he nodded.

"Of course. I've got plenty of room." He grinned and made a grand gesture around the room, as if making the point that this place was huge. Of course, that point had already been made. Steve groaned.

"If she's staying here then I'm staying here too. There is no way she is staying in this house alone with you," he said.

"Why do you say that? I'm not a pervert." Tony narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, though that hint of a sly smile was still hiding behind his stern face.

"Right. What were your words for it? Oh yeah. I believe it was 'Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist'?" Steve rolled his eyes and Tony scoffed, his smirk growing.

"You forgot genius."

"Not the point. If she stays here, I stay here." Steve glared at Tony, though there was a light side to this argument that I could feel. They didn't hate each other, necessarily. They just had different views. And at this point in time, their different views were about me.

"You just missed me and needed some excitement in your life, didn't you?" Tony joked. Steve shook his head, turning away from him. I sat there silently and let everything sink in, the blood rushing to my face again. Captain America was going to stay in the same building as me. He was practically fighting for it. I had to concentrate on not getting visibly worked up. If I freaked out about the situation, no one would want to stay with me. I pinched my arm hard, feeling ridiculous as my thoughts about him went out of control. This wasn't like me. I didn't even know him. And yet every time I thought too hard about being in the same room as him, it was like something else took control.

"Well, looks like someone has already developed an attachment," Tony sung mockingly. Steve tensed, his jaw tightening.

"Do you know how immature you are?"

"Is it immature to think that you'd be attracted to a woman in tight shorts with a beautiful face that shows up in the middle of the night, hm?"  
"Yes."

"Then I guess immaturity makes me fun. And you're not."

"...I don't need to be 'fun'."

"Just easy." Tony grinned to himself.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh nothing. Don't worry grandpa."

"You see what I mean? You're so rude."

"I try." Tony and Steve continued on with their bickering and I sighed, turning around to survey the room. Things seem distorted in my vision, little lights and strange colored mists floating around in the air. Each of the man were clouded with it, all different colors, different feelings. Thor's, a brilliant color that I couldn't even put into words, was hovering around his frame as he stared at me from his seat across the room, eyes boring into mine. I shifted my attention away. The colors made me feel like I was bordering on a different world, a different dimension. It didn't help convince me that this wasn't a dream or a hallucination. I rested a hand against my throbbing heart and turned my attention back to the argument, hoping it was almost over.

"At least I'm not a virgin," Tony chimed.

"Your father would be disappointed in you."

"Don't you dare bring my father into this."

"Howard was a good guy. I don't know what happened to you."

"Excuse me? I am-" Tony was cut off by a beeping noise, which turned into a little jingle. I realized it was a phone, buzzing wildly on the coffee table. Even it was surrounded by a strange, colored mist. Everyone turned their attention to me as I sat there, feeling self-conscious.

"Whose phone?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"...yours," Tony answered. I blinked a few times, trying to process.

"Mine?"  
"You had it in your pants pocket. Jarvis removed it when you showered and set it here for safekeeping. It's kind of an old fashioned little thing, I'll admit. We could hook you up with a new one. State of the art. Stark technology. You'll love it."

"I..." I stared at the buzzing phone and picked it up, flipping it open. This most certainly wasn't my phone. I did have one, it was true, but it had surely gone up in flames with the explosion. I never really took it with me anyway, since I rarely went places and I didn't have anyone to call me. I held it up to my ear curiously and waited, a dark voice coming over the other end.

"Annabelle," it growled. My eyes widened and I shut it much more quickly than I had opened it, dropping it back onto the table abruptly. My head spun.

"Who was it?" Steve asked from behind me.

"My father," I said briskly, in shock, staring at the little flip phone. How was that possible? This wasn't even my phone, and yet somehow my father had gotten a hold of me. Maybe it hadn't been him. No...I'd recognize that voice anywhere. The little screen lit up as it began buzzing again, panic rushing through me.

"Give it to me. I'll talk to him. He sounds like a douchebag that needs a good talking to," Tony said roughly. I grabbed the phone out of his reach before he could, staring at him with wild, wide eyes.

"No!" I yelled frantically. I didn't want anyone to answer. I regretted picking it up in the first place. At least I hadn't said anything. I hadn't said anything, right? He had no way of knowing it was me who had picked up the phone, wherever the phone came from.

"Did he just call her dad a douchebag?" Steve whispered to Thor behind me, just loud enough for me to hear.

"I think so. I believe that's disrespectful...am I correct?" Thor whispered back.

"Yes. It's an insult."

"What is a douche exactly? And why is it in a bag?" I looked over my shoulder and gave Thor a bit of a look, my fear outweighing his comical remark.

"You don't want to know Thor. Just leave it," Bruce commented, his voice hushed. Thor looked confused, but after a few moments he nodded. The phone chimed one last time and then stopped, my heart slowing down immediately. I let it fall into my lap. Tony narrowed his eyes and leaped for it, but I snatched it with remarkable speed for my exhaustion and threw in on the floor as Tony attacked me, knocking us both onto the hard ground. His arc reactor was warm against my body. At this close range it was easy for me to feel all of the energy running through that thing, but even I knew it was too risky for me to play with it to get him off of me. His attack was intentional, I realized. Thor, Bruce and Steve peered over the edge of the couch at us, a different look on each of their faces. Bruce looked amused. Thor looked perplexed. And Steve looked downright exhausted at the situation. I focused my eyes on Tony again. If he was trying to get me to perform like he had before, to show me off to these three men when I was so tired, I wouldn't play into it.

"Please get off," I said, tired. Tony grinned.

"I'm sure you can manage to throw me off yourself. You do pack a punch, remember."

"I don't think that's such a good idea Stark," Steve said, looking at me warily. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Really Captain, I can take care of myself. What could she do? She can't hurt me." For some reason, a little spark of anger flushed up inside of me at the remark.

"I can. But I'm not going to put you in danger," I said, a bit irritated.

"You can't hurt me. You're weak." My anger was rising more and more with every word he said, that odd, seething anger, and he grinned even wider.

"Isn't that right Annabelle? You're just a worthless little-" The electricity raced through me and I shoved him off, sending him at the wall...and through it. 'Worthless' had set me off, one simple word that I'd heard one too many times in my life. Yet as I took a few seconds to calm the seething anger that had boiled up, I realized what I'd done. I scrambled up and ran after him, the size of the hole in the wall alarming me. I'd done a lot of damage. Too much damage.

"I'm so sorry," I said as I lifted a few chunks of rubble off of him and helped him up. He seemed to be in one piece, the reactor still glowing strong from behind the fabric of his shirt, but there were a few new cuts on his face that scared me. He coughed and brushed some plaster out of his hair and off of his shoulders, his dark eyes glistening.

"That was fantastic. See?" He smiled at me, which seemed so odd and out of place. By now the others werepeering through the hole at us. Steve headed straight for the edge, running his fingers along the broken wall.

"That's a big hole..." he mumbled. Bruce came up behind me and tapped me lightly on the shoulder, waiting until I turned around to give me a slight smile. This, much like Tony's smile, seemed oddly unsettling and out of place in the situation.

"If you don't mind, can I take your pulse?" he asked calmly. I extended my arm to him, the feeling surreal. I was not the one he should have been checking. I'd just punted Tony Stark through a wall, and yet it was my pulse he was interested in. My vision faded out for a moment as I tried to keep up. Bruce grabbed my wrist and pressed his fingers against it, staying silent for a few moments as he counted the beats in his head. Steve, finishing his inspection of the hole, came over to where we were, examining my face for a second, then looking into my eyes. I stared back at him, my vision sharpening for a moment, and was suddenly embarrassed at the look he was giving me.

"...what color eyes do you have?" he asked, finally.

"Green," I replied slowly. My voice sounded detached, like it wasn't coming out of my own mouth.

"That's what I thought," he said. "Dr. Banner, don't you find that interesting?" Steve turned to Bruce, his face curious. Bruce removed his fingers from my wrist and glanced at my eyes before turning to Steve.

"Very. And her heartbeat is pretty interesting too," he replied. I stood still. I wished someone would explain what was so strange about me, instead of talking about me like I wasn't even there. Maybe I wasn't there. No, that was ridiculous...

"What's wrong with my heartbeat? And my eyes?" I asked. Bruce raised his hand and covered my eyes for a moment, the world going dark, and then lifted it, looking at my face. I shifted uncomfortably at how close he suddenly was. I was used to people like my father poking and prodding me, but this seemed so different. I could hardly even focus on his face.

"She's not dilating either. I wonder..." He looked around and then looked back at me. "Come with me, please." He held out his hand and I took it slowly, still confused as to what was going on. Why couldn't they just tell me what was happening? Why couldn't I just lay down? Bruce lead me away from the group and towards a closed door, no light spilling from underneath. He pulled the door open and walked into the dark, into a room that looked to be a bedroom upon closer inspection. I stiffened as he shut the door, leaving us in pitch black of the room. "Close your eyes." he told me, which unsettled me even more. What was he doing? Why here? I could hear his footsteps as he walked, closer and closer to me, and then stopped. My breath caught. I couldn't explain why I felt so fearful of the situation. Little dots of light hovered around me, collecting in the shape of Bruce's body, though it was definitely only my imagination. My eyes were closed. I couldn't see light. I wondered if this was winding me up to pass out.

"Okay. Open," he said. It took a moment before I could will myself to do so. His face was close yet again, yet even in the dark it was illuminated by some kind of blue light.

"Well isn't that something..." he said. The little balls of light that I had seen before were still their, shifting their color as they floated around him. I had the sudden urge to vomit.

"Can you please tell me what's going on?" I asked quietly. Bruce looked at me silently for a few more seconds and then nodded.

"I'm trying to find out if whatever happened to you is killing you. It doesn't appear to be, but I'm still not sure. Plus, I'm curious." He smiled a little and held out his hand again. "Let's go back out to the others before Tony makes some crude joke about us being in here. Which he will. Try not to be bothered by him. I know sometimes the things he says can be upsetting, but he doesn't mean it." He seemed so calm when he talked, as if nothing bothered him. Somehow, for the moment, despite all the strange lights and the pain in my body, it made me feel calmer too. I followed him out the door, glad to be back in the light. Tony made his way towards us, that dangerous smirk already in place.

"So. Two people go into a dark bedroom and-"

"Her eyes glow blue." Bruce cut him off before he could say anything else. Tony's mouth hung open from his last sentence, and he slowly closed it.

"Yeah, I know," he responded. Steve and Thor stepped towards us, their faces curious. This was news to me. That explained the blue light in the room. Had that been me...? It seemed crazy to think that my eyes could produce that much light. Then again, everything was strange. I swayed a bit, using Bruce's forearm to keep myself up.

"Why?" I asked, but was ignored.

"Her heart rate is dangerously fast. In normal circumstances, and if she were human, her heart would have stopped by now," Bruce continued as if I hadn't even said anything, though his voice was lined with caution. I stared at him in awe, not sure what to say. If I were human? No one seemed to notice how much my body was swaying.

"Fantastic." Tony grinned at me. I stayed silent, not sure how to react. Steve narrowed his eyes and walked closer to me, grabbing my wrist and holding it tightly for a few moments. I stared at him with tired eyes as he examined my arm, and then let it go, suddenly.

"She's hot," he commented, completely serious. Tony started into a laugh, breaking the silence, which was so startling that I nearly lost my footing. It sounded odd in my ears, ringing around the room. Steve groaned, a faint flush coming over his cheeks. "Oh come on, Stark. Be mature."

"I am the epitome of mature," Tony sputtered through his laughter. Steve sighed and shook his head. I stood as still as I could, my wrist burning where Steve had held it. Everyone else stared at Tony and waited for him to stop his laughing fit, which didn't seem like it was going to happen any time soon. My guess was that his sleep deprivation was finally getting to him. I was surprised that I wasn't laughing as well, though I couldn't even imagine so much as a giggle escaping my lips right now. After a moment, which seemed agonizingly long, Thor growled and punched Tony in the arm, sending him sideways onto the floor. He hit the ground and grunted, stopping his laughter immediately.

"Done," Thor said seriously. Tony got back up and glared, rubbing his arm.

"Well that was a little harsh, don't you think?"

"No. Not at all." Tony looked like he was going to talk back, but Steve silenced him by pulling the phone out of his pocket and handing it to me. I stared at it for a second and then at Steve's face. Those strange, warm butterflies fluttered through my gut.

"It rang again. I think," he said, waiting for me to take it. I slid it from his hand and looked at the screen, the voicemail icon flashing on and off.

"Excuse me," I mumbled, walking past them and to the corner of the room, as if this was all the solitude I needed for the situation. I dialed voicemail and listened to the message carefully, my heart beat accelerating again.

"Annabelle Sawyer Green. You despicable creature. All these years I have been raising you by myself, giving you a home and everything you could ever want, and yet you repay me with destruction. My only consolation is that I know you, and I know your limits. You'll be dead by tomorrow if you don't come home. You know that. You don't know this world you've found yourself in. You can't survive in a place that doesn't want you." My father's German was harsh in comparison to the English I'd been speaking, his words clicking and snapping and making my stomach ball up in knots. I listened to it a few times over, wondering if there was anything more beyond the subtle threat he seemed to be making. Was it a threat? 'You'll be dead by tomorrow'. It had to be. Would my own father kill me? Something bubbled up inside of me as I thought about it, the answer almost immediate. _Of course he would._ I let the phone drop from my ear and fall to the ground, where it made a dull thud next to my feet. How did he even know I was alive? Why did I even have this phone? Where did it come from? How could this all be happening. Someone walked over and picked the phone up off the ground, handing it to me, as if I wanted it. I looked over to see it was Steve, and by the look on his face I must have looked awful. I felt awful.

"...are you alright?" he asked quietly. I shook my head.

"My father's really angry," I whispered, sounding so childish that I could hardly believe the words had come from my mouth. For some reason I still loved him. He was my father, after all. Hearing his threats, his cold voice on the other end of that phone call that didn't even ask if I was okay, made me sadder than I'd expected. I felt like a hole had opened up in my chest.

"We won't let him hurt you. I promise," Steve said quietly, only to me, his breath warm as he bent over to speak to me. I shifted my eyes to him, my vision blurry from tears that had suddenly sprung to my eyes. I hadn't mentioned my father's violent tendencies to anyone, yet Steve seemed like he knew exactly what was going on. Did he? Was I obvious? Either way, he didn't seem to understand why I was crying. I could hardly understand. I was crying because there was always some piece of me that assumed my father loved me, somewhere deep down, and that hope had just been shattered. 'You'll be dead by tomorrow.' 'You despicable creature.'

 _The odd lights that had clouded my vision took over all at once, my eyes falling closed and my body falling. But I was out before I hit the floor. I didn't feel the impact._


	6. Book I Ch 6

" _Father? Can I go play outside in the rain like the other children?" My memories flooded into me. A young Annabelle was standing at the window looking out at the rain, which I had always longed to touch. Sure, I had been in the rain one or two times before, but never for very long. I wanted to stand there and let it rain on me for hours. My tiny hand was pressed against the window as I watched the other children play from far away, distant neighbors that came to the hills to enjoy the flowers, splashing around in their rain boots and warm coats. I didn't even know their names. But whenever it rained they were out there, a brother and sister, frolicking through the rain. Mocking me. I ripped my eyes away from them and turned, clasping my hands behind my back. My father was at his desk as he always was, working on something new._

" _Annabelle, rain is for average children, and you don't have any time for playing. Do you really want to get all wet? Then you'll have to wash your clothes," he grumbled back in German. He didn't once look up at me. He could have at least had the decency to make eye contact when we were having a conversation._

" _I don't mind washing my clothes. I really want to go outside. Just for a little bit? Please?"_

" _Don't beg Annabelle. It makes you sound needy and weak." He stood and left the room, just like that, indicating that our conversation was over. I frowned and continued to watch what I couldn't have. To the other children, I was just the little foreign girl that peered at them through the window day after day. Most people didn't even know I existed. I wanted to cry, but I knew father would be mad so I held it in. 'Crying isn't lady like,' he would say. 'Crying isn't for people like you.' Who did he think I was? I was just a little girl...but that didn't matter to him. I was his daughter, and as he put it, 'No daughter of mine will grow up to indulge in such foolish things. You must work so that perhaps one day you won't be so helpless.' But I was helpless, and everything he did only made me more helpless. My father didn't allow me to do anything or be with anyone, and our housekeepers always did everything for me. I had plenty of time to waste, and nothing to do._

 _My mother came into the room, her face bright. She was the complete opposite of my father, always so cheerful and free. She wanted to do so many fun things with me, but then she got sick. Now she wasn't able to even leave the house much, except for things she absolutely needed to do. She had her dark brown hair tied in a messy ponytail, a few loose strands hanging over her face._

" _Why the long face, Annie?" she asked me in Russian. Russian was the language I knew best, even when my father spoke German. It was comforting. It was the language of love, not the language of discipline like my father's was. My mother stopped beside me and crouched down, tickling my sides. I giggled, something that I didn't do often._

" _I was just watching the kids play in the rain. Father says I have to stay inside." I turned to her, grasping one of her hands with my small fingers. "Is the rain cold this time of year, mama? If you stand out there for a long time, do you get shivers?" I asked curiously. My mother examined my face for a while and then smiled, showing her brilliant teeth._

" _Why don't we find out?" She took my hand and led me to the door. I pulled my rain boots and jacket on, things I had rarely worn. I didn't know why my father had even bothered to buy them for me. I tugged on my mother's sleeve, worry in my eyes._

" _Mama, what about father? Won't he be mad?" My father was mad a lot at my mother, and I hated seeing her get yelled at. At least he didn't hit her. She was too frail for that. It was clear as day to me that he loved her, maybe a little too much, and sometimes that love came out in passionate anger._

" _I'll deal with him. Don't you worry about it, my darling." She bopped her finger on my nose and opened the front door, taking me outside. The cold chill hit me immediately as I ran out into the rain and spun around, giggling with joy. The rain felt so nice and cool on my face, the water running down my skin. It was wonderful. I pranced around in the rain, but stayed close to my mother's side. I didn't want to leave her alone. I never wanted to._

" _Is it nice, darling?" she took my hands and spun me around like a ballerina._

" _It's amazing! How is it so cold, mama? And where does it come from?" I spun around again and stared up into the dark sky in awe. My mother laughed._

" _You know where it comes from. Water builds in the clouds and then it comes back to earth."_

" _I know...condensation...but it's seems so much like magic!" My mother smiled and took my hands in hers, beginning to waltz with me, setting me on her feet and spinning me around._

" _Annabelle?" The voice sounded distant and familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I never wanted to leave this memory. I wanted it to play in my head forever. But all things had to end. After a few minutes of playing and dancing in the rain, my father stormed out, taking me by the wrist. My mother snatched me from him and pushed me behind her defensively, like she always had. My mother may have been small, but she was an extremely strong woman._

" _She's having fun Harry. Let her be." she said harshly, in English, the language they both shared._

" _She's got no time for fun!" my father snapped, grabbing me away from her. I had learned not to fight my father, so I just watched as the look of hopelessness crossed over my mother's face. "She can't be carefree like this, Emilia. Please, let me do what's best for you, my love." The grip my father had on my wrist hurt, but I didn't want to get in trouble, so I never said anything. He tugged me inside and away from my mother, and I watched her in dismay over my shoulder. She went into a coughing fit then, probably due to the cold. She held her chest and coughed violently, bent over in pain. This was a common scene._

" _Mama? Are you okay?" I yelled back to her, still being pulled along. I tried to get away from my father but his grip was too tight._

" _You won't help her," he yelled, throwing me inside the door. I hit the floor hard, lucky enough to land on my arms instead of my face. I could still hear my mother coughing from outside, and I scrambled up to see if I could run past my father to go see her. I tried to duck under his legs, but he held me down with his foot. One of our house nurses scurried past me and out the door to tend to my mother, easing some of my worry. She wouldn't let my mother die. She couldn't. My father stood me up and looked down on me, expressing his dominance._

" _I told you not to go outside."_

" _But-"_

" _But nothing. You disobeyed my orders." He raised his hand and slapped it across my fragile face. I could have gotten up to fight him back, but I was too scared. Always. It stung, like I was being pricked repeatedly with tiny needles._

" _I'm so sorry, father," I whimpered in Japanese, rubbing my cheek. It was the language that I knew better than my father and mother did, and in times when I felt weak I found myself using it. It was the one thing I had that made me feel like I was something when I couldn't fight back in any other way. My father grumbled angrily under his breath and walked back into his office, slamming the door._

" _Annabelle?" The voice rang again through my ears, though I couldn't pinpoint exactly where it was. I slowly stood and walked to the bathroom to check my face, which was already forming a large bruise. I wouldn't be able to leave my room until it healed, because my father feared the housekeepers would tell the authorities. 'They have no right to tell me how to raise my children,' he always said. He never wanted to play by the rules of the world, because he claimed the world had wronged him so many times. And maybe it did, but I never thought that was a good reason to be so cruel._

"Annabelle, wake up." I was pulled out of my memory as my shoulders shook, my eyes shooting open in surprise. I blinked a few times to get out of my daze, finding that the one shaking me was Steve. He sighed a little in relief and released my shoulders, his frame relaxing. I sat up slowly to find myself laying on the couch in the living room, the others scattered around the room.

"See. I told you it would work." Tony said. "Just give someone a good scare and they will wake up. Right, Bruce?" He turned to Bruce, who was sitting in a fancy armchair.

"Don't remind me." He said grimly, though there was a slight smirk on his face. Tony looked down at me, coming to stand by the edge of the couch. I was starting to think that grin of his was a permanent feature of his face.

"You okay there? We thought you weren't going to wake up."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I grumbled, thinking about my memory. It wasn't long after that when my mother passed away. That was one of the last times I ever saw her. "What happened to me?" I asked.

"You passed out after listening to the voice mail from your father," Steve answered, handing me a tall glass of water. I took it from him and drank a few sips slowly, not wanting to seem rude and chug it. I hadn't realized how thirsty I had gotten.

"You're lucky the Captain was next to you when it happened. It's thanks to him that you didn't land on the floor," Tony commented, turning around to survey a small electrical box on the wall. He seemed like he was already bored with the conversation, and had moved on to something else.

"Well," I cleared my throat and looked over at Steve, who was still standing near the side of the couch, watching me with concern. "Thank you, Captain Rogers."

"You're welcome. Call me Steve if you want." He stood up from his kneeling spot beside me and stretched his arms out, taking a deep breath. I lightly touched my cheek, inhaling, the memory of my father still present in my mind.

"Do you hurt?" Bruce stood and walked over to where I was, examining my face. For someone so quiet, he sure was quick to call someone out on some simple gesture like that. I quickly lowered my hand and shook my head, not wanting to explain. I didn't think I could explain without getting worked up.

"Just a subconscious movement," I said.

"That's what I'm worried about," he said. I was still too tired to figure out what he was getting at. However long I was out, it wasn't enough.

"Can I rest now?" I asked, weakly. Bruce gave me a sympathetic look.

"Yes. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to keep you up. You've been through a lot today, haven't you?" That was an understatement. But I didn't say this, instead staying quiet. Tony nodded towards Steve, and before I could protest Steve had gently hoisted me up, holding me steadily.

"Lead the way," he said, his face serious. Tony headed up the stairs.

The strange lights hadn't left my vision. They'd even been present in my memory, now that I thought about it, though if I focused too hard on the memory much of it came up blank. It was already fading. I was used to this. So many things seemed so close, yet so far away. I had scars on my body that I couldn't attribute to any event, not because I blocked it out intentionally, but because no matter how much I searched I couldn't recall how I'd gotten them. The most noticeable was one on my chest, which had been big and jagged and raw when I'd first discovered it a couple years ago. I'd gotten up to take a shower and there it was, red, raw, throbbing. I'd questioned my father about it, but he had no answer. I knew better than to press him for one. It sometimes made me feel sick looking at it, like it was one ominous reminder that things in my past were missing, that there was something wrong with me. Maybe in time I would forget even about the explosion, and go back to my father like nothing had happened. Could I forget something like that? How much had I already forgotten?

I was laid down on a soft bed, tucked in gently. Steve's silhouette, alight with dancing, brilliant colors, was all that was left visible of him. The others, nearby, were clouded by similar objects. Maybe the explosion had given me some kind of brain or corneal damage, and I was permanently going to see these strange lights until my vision failed completely. Would that be so bad?  
"We're going to let you rest now, Annabelle," Bruce said, softly, his voice distant. I let my eyes fall closed, trying to ignore the lights, my body sinking slowly against the bed. I listened halfheartedly as Steve and Bruce held a quiet, mumbled conversation, my mind already wandering with sleep in between their words.

"Someone will need to take shifts and watch her."

"Do you think she will last the night?"

"I…can only hope. Her condition is a lot more concerning than I expected. If she really did go through that explosion, and gained some sort of abilities from it, her body is going to be going through a lot of changes. It'll either thrive off of this new energy, or reject it."

"And if she rejects it?"

"She won't last very long, I'm afraid. I've never seen this specific type of energy, but I'm going to guess it follows the same pattern as the others I've experienced. It'll eat away at her until there's nothing left to eat."

"...and if she makes it?"

"I'd say we should test her when she's feeling better. See what she can do. She could be a big asset."

"Should we tell SHIELD? Fury?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"I don't know if he'll like this..."

"He won't, probably, given the circumstances. He won't trust her. I'm surprised Tony trusts her."

"You know why Stark trusts her."

"Maybe. Tony always has been weak for women like her...but he wouldn't let a threat stay this long. I know he sometimes doesn't make the best decisions, but I trust this one."

"We'll have to get Fury's input at some point. He'll find out whether we want him to or not. What if he doesn't want her around at all?"

"It doesn't matter. We'll keep her safe for as long as we can. She's been through enough."

"I know, but..."

 _I faded completely, not hearing a word more._


	7. Book I Ch 7

I woke up screaming. The lights in the room buzzed loudly and flickered on and off, pulsing with my every heartbeat, my mind reeling from the horrors that sleep had shown me; whether they were memories or just dreams, I couldn't tell. I tried to catch my breath, my body jolting in surprise as the door to my room flung open.

"What's going on?" Bruce asked, rushing to my side. I took a calming breath and ran a hand through my hair, the sweat from my forehead collecting on my fingers. The lights shuddered for a few seconds longer and then evened out. Though my heart still throbbed in my chest, that electric, startling feeling that had been overwhelming me died down.

"I...a nightmare. That's all," I said, catching my breath. I felt the others nearby, fear and alarm radiating off of them. I opened my mouth to say something else and then closed my eyes, hanging my head. It was only a dream. I'd scared everyone over a dream. Why was my heart beating so fast? I was already forgetting the content of what I'd seen, but the effects were still taking hold of my body, goosebumps raised on my arms.

Steve and Tony hovered near the door. The strange mist that had hung around them before was still present, though it seemed a little more bearable now. Natural.

"Want to talk about it?" Steve asked, somewhat looking over Tony's shoulder. They both looked alert and stiff, no doubt thinking there was some kind of attack because of the electrical malfunctions. I was surprised Steve had even asked so calmly. Shifting uneasily in my sweat soaked sheets, I shook my head, lifting my eyes to look up at him. I was sure I looked a mess, but right now that didn't seem to matter. I would have to be embarrassed about that later.

"I'm okay. I just need to breathe a little bit..."

"Do you want a glass of water?" Tony asked, to which I shook my head. Ingesting anything didn't feel like a good idea to me right now.

"I only need some time. Let me shower and get dressed." This was natural for me. All I needed was to get myself put together and everything would be okay.

"Shower? Are you kidding? Annabelle, I hate to be rude, but you've fallen down and had a lot of issues. I don't know if a shower is a good idea," Bruce said.  
"Someone want to volunteer to give her a sponge-bath? No? Me? Alright," Tony said. Steve shot him a glare.

"I'll be fine. I can do it," I said, feeling trapped by the comforter. My body swelled with heat, uncontrollably sweating. I honestly wasn't sure if I could shower, feeling disoriented and strange, but I was craving some time to myself to just stand and think, let the water wash away this awful feeling.

"I'll get you some of Pepper's clothes to change into," Tony said, finally, as Bruce stepped back. He wore a look of concern, as if ready at any moment to argue and keep me in bed. "They might be a bit of a tight fit, but they'll have to do for now. I'll have Jarvis drop them off when you're done showering," Tony continued.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Holler if you need anything, Annabelle." Bruce still looked concerned, hesitant, but he stepped towards the door. He subtly examined the lamp near the doorway that had flickered on and off violently during my startled fit, screwing the bulb back and forth for a moment before stepping out of the room. I wanted to do the same thing; if I was able to reach the lamp across the room, reach every light in this room and maybe even outside, did that give a good indication at the radius of my abilities? Abilities...no, that's not what these were. These were phenomenons, anomalies, things caused by whatever vile chemicals my father had mixed up in his lab. I didn't want them. Yet they felt so natural to me already, like they'd been there all along.

I watched as everyone filed out, shutting the door behind them, leaving me alone. A few moments were needed before I could slide myself out of bed, pulling the sheets back neatly and then heading into the bathroom. I glanced at myself in the mirror and let out a groan, finding my hair was sticking out in every direction and held up by static and knots. With as much hair as I had, it almost always looked like a fuzzy mess in the morning, even with a good night's sleep. Now, with all the tossing and turning I had done plus the excess amount of sweat it was soaked in, my hair looked like a disaster. All my life I had tried so hard to make a great first impression on everyone I met, but it seemed that here, with the people who mattered most right now, I couldn't seem to do that. Maybe it was bad luck; or, maybe, I couldn't be fake in front of them. I couldn't slap on that smile and charm. I couldn't be that young beauty that every scientist familiar with my father had heard about. Right now, I looked exactly how I felt. And, maybe that was how it was supposed to be. I couldn't be fake all of the time, despite what I had grown up thinking.

By the time I showered, got dressed—in sweats and a loose t-shirt, provided by JARVIS—and came downstairs, everyone was already at the table eating breakfast. They looked so normal as they sat there, making light conversation and passing a box of cereal around. Who knew superheroes ate cereal? I guess they were people just like the rest of us, but it seemed so simple of a scene that all I could do was stand in the doorway and watch. Even Thor, who I'd only ever seen sporting metal and a cape, was clothed in a t-shirt. His bowl was piled too high with cereal and, by the looks of it, he hadn't used any milk.

"Did you have a nice shower, Annabelle Green?" he asked, his voice sounding too grand for so dull a scene. The others turned their heads towards me, eyes cautious and curious. Bruce seemed to be checking for any ailment, any sign that I wasn't okay, but didn't call anything out. I'd taken special care to make sure my hair was in place and that nothing looked out of sorts. I finally looked at least a little bit like myself.

"I did. Thank you," I said. He held his glass up with a grand smile and drained its contents.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Steve asked. My heart involuntarily fluttered. I tried not to look at him too closely, afraid that the new abilities would give my ridiculous attraction away.

"I'm not really hungry, but thank you for the offer," I answered politely. I should have been hungry after all I had been through, but for some reason food just didn't sound appetizing. Actually, the thought of putting anything in my mouth seemed revolting to me right now. I glanced at Tony, his eyes scanning over me from afar, wondering why he was being so quiet. From what I had experienced, he seemed to be the one that always had something to say, whether that be something intelligent or semi degrading. He was watching me, a perplexed look on his face, as if he had discovered a gold mine and was thinking over his possibilities of what to do with it.

"Do you want to sit down?" Steve asked, standing up and offering me his chair. I looked at him in surprise and then looked at the chair, not sure what to say. I'd never had someone offer me their chair. Sure, some guys had pulled chairs out for me when they were attempting to 'woo' me at my father's parties, but no one had ever sacrificed their comfort for my own.

Bruce chuckled from the corner.

"Go on, Annabelle. Take it. Trust me, Steve has no tricks up his sleeve," he said, giving me a smile. I took the seat and pulled myself in, resting my hands on the surface of the table.

"Thank you, Steve," I said quietly. He leaned up against the wall nearby, crossing his arms, nodding his head once.

"Not a problem, ma'am." I felt my cheeks heat up, my heart thudding, and quickly grabbed a glass of orange juice near me, taking a big drink to calm myself. When I felt I was safe, I set the glass back down.

"That was mine." Thor commented, taking the glass himself and peering inside at what was left of the juice.

"…I'm so sorry," I said, eyes widening a bit. This wasn't the same glass he'd been chugging from earlier, but apparently he held possession of more than one. That meant two things: one, I'd stolen the drink of the supposed god of thunder; two, my lips had been where his were. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

"It is fine. I can get another." He shot me that smile and then lifted the glass high up into the air. "Ano-"

"Don't you dare!" Steve and Tony both yelled, startling me enough to make me jump. Thor, his glass still held high, narrowed his eyes. He slowly lowered it, carefully setting it back on the table. Grumbling under his breath, he reached for the pitcher of orange juice at the center of the table and filled his cup up to the top, muttering something about 'bad service.'

"Thank you, Thor," Bruce said, sipping his coffee. Thor nodded once and grunted a little in response, holding the juice out to me.

"More?"

"Oh, uh, no thank you." I smiled a bit as he downed the juice before setting it down and filling it a third time. I shifted my eyes around the room, resting them on Tony once again, who was still blatantly staring at me. His face was unreadable, twisted up into some sort of odd expression. There was no way I could tell what he was thinking. That is, until he spoke.

"Do you want to go outside, Annabelle?" I looked up.

"Right now?" I asked, slowly.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's nice outside."

"Yes, but—"

"Do you want to, or not?" he interrupted me. That strange look never left his face.

"I...I guess?" I was a little put off by his abruptness. I glanced around at the others, wondering if this was some sort of plan, but everyone looked just as confused as I was. I turned back to Tony.

"Great. Let's go, then." He stood and nodded at the others, who hesitantly stood as well, leaving their breakfast behind. Tony grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the room and down the hall, catching me by surprise. He pulled me along until we came to an elevator, the others trailing behind us. The elevator doors were gorgeous, as expected, and as Tony punched a few buttons to open it I could see that the inside was just as nice. He stepped in and leaned against the wall of the elevator as I peered after him, examining the décor. I slowly took a step forward, but was roughly pushed back out, a smirk on Tony's face as he did it. I stumbled back, catching myself before I lost my balance.

"What was that for?" I asked,.

"You don't get to take the elevator. You get to walk to the top." Tony responded, that Stark grin still hanging on his face.

"Are you kidding me?" The expression on his face told me he wasn't. I stared at him, not sure what to even say. Stark tower was a notoriously large building, and the stairs to the top had to be incredibly numerous. Bruce had hardly let me shower this morning; was he going to stop this nonsense from happening?

"This is test number one," Tony said, motioning for Bruce to join him. Bruce entered the elevator, turning around to look at me. "Only Bruce and I get to ride in the elevator." Tony finished.

"I don't like this any more than you do," Bruce said, looking at me sympathetically. "And I don't think it's a good idea."

"It'll be fine."

"Hey, wait," Steve said, clearly a bit annoyed.

"Capsicle, you and Thor are going to race Annabelle there. Whoever makes it to the top first gets to eat lunch," Tony explained, quickly pushing a few buttons from inside, the doors easing shut before any of us could argue. The elevator let out a 'ding', and then they were gone. I turned around and looked at the other two, who both looked confused, though Thor had a dangerously determined look on his face. How was I supposed to race them? One was a god, and the other was a genetically enhanced super soldier. I had no chance at all.

"Maybe I shouldn't have skipped out on breakfast," I mumbled, hoping that the lack of food and sudden physical activity wouldn't make me pass out. That was all I needed at the start of the day: more issues.

"We don't have to play Stark's game," Steve grumbled. "Let's just walk up there." I didn't want to make Tony mad, but if he was boycotting this 'test,' there wouldn't be any harm. If the three of us took our sweet time and made our way up at our own pace, it wouldn't be me being difficult, but all three of us refusing him. We'd all go down together.

That is, until Thor took off running.

"Hey!" Steve and I yelled out, in unison. I was about to say something else, but Steve was already out ahead of me, sprinting after. I watched from behind in awe, then shook it off and started up at a much slower pace. He was already far ahead of me, obviously determined now to beat his otherworldly friend. I didn't know what it was with guys and competition; someone always had to be better. Then again, I wouldn't have minded winning the race, just so I could show Tony I could, or prove that I had what it took. Still, there was no way I could run faster than these two. Whatever that explosion did to me, it definitely didn't give me super-speed. I'd have been able to tell, right?

Then again, there had to be a reason behind this test. Did Tony think I was capable of that sort of speed? I inhaled, realizing that even though I had been jogging up the stairs for quite some time now, I wasn't out of breath. In fact, I felt fine. My breathing was paced, even, my heart rate only slightly elevated. Maybe all I needed was some focus and confidence in myself, and I'd be able to keep this speed all the way to the top. It would be no record, but at least it would prove that I was physically capable of this. I wasn't here just to faint and drag my feet; I could manage more than that.

I squeezed my hands into tight fists and then let them go, taking a deep breath in. My attention shifted to the strange new pulse in my body, those brilliant and colorful little strands of light, and for a moment that image seemed to consume me. I bit down lightly on my lip and imagined myself running faster, that energy flowing through me naturally until it slid down my legs and curled on my toes. I could feel my pace picking up, my body moving faster and faster until I was flying over multiple steps at a time, nearing the two boys ahead. It felt as if I were gliding, my body being whisked up the stairs by some crazy inner force that filled me with excitement. As exhilarating as it felt it also felt natural, soothing, as if this was all I was ever meant to do.

I passed Steve within the next few seconds, not even turning to look back at him as I did. I could feel his surprise even without seeing him, the tiny lights around him—which I was starting to realize must have been representing his energy, his aura—spiking dramatically as I blew past him. I turned my attention now on Thor. He wasn't too much farther. I ran my tongue over my teeth and quickly sidestepped around him, then cut him off and continued on, leaving him and Steve both in the dust. This was it. We were close to the door that would lead up to the top of Stark Tower, where Tony and Bruce would be waiting, and I was going to get there first. I could hardly believe it, even though it was definitely happening. The sensations in my body were incredible, pushing me to the top, pushing and pushing until finally I grabbed the little handle of the door, unable to stop my feet from moving. I got it open as fast as I could, skidding across the ground outside as I angled my feet to stop, my body still moving too quickly as my socks-covered heels scraped across the floor. Panic rose in me as I came up on Tony, knocking him harshly to the ground. We slid a few feet until we were finally able to stop. I batted my eyes, my corneas burning with light, and quickly looked down at him to check for damage. Despite my worry over hurting him, he didn't seem to be upset in the least. In fact, he looked pleased. I had to get used to this oddly morbid tendency of his to look proud after being thrown to the ground; it had happened a good three times now.

"Well, I wasn't exactly expecting that," he said, coughing a little, "but good job, kid." I inhaled quickly and pushed off of him, holding my hand out to help him up. He grasped it and stood, brushing himself off before examining the damage. "Looks like I might have to replace this shirt. The back is ripped a bit."

"I'm really sorry about that," I stuttered. My words seemed to want to come out of my mouth too fast, my teeth chattering. That energy inside of me was still all welled up, my entire body twitching and jolting. "Guess I have to work on stopping," I said.

"We all have to start somewhere," Tony responded. I looked back behind me as Steve and Thor finally came through the doors behind me. For a moment, I felt an overwhelming flush of embarrassment and turned my eyes away. My foot tapped rapidly against the roof, full of too much strange electricity to keep still.

"So, how'd you do it?" Tony asked, and I snapped my attention back to him.

"Hm?"

"How did you manage to beat them?"

"I just did." I felt at a loss for words, not sure I could explain what I had experienced. "I didn't think too much about it. I realized that you must have known I could beat them, and so I just...did. It wasn't necessarily anything I did. At least, I don't think so. It felt natural to me," I explained. My fingers nervously picked at the side of my shirt, moving too fast, like I was playing some kind of intricate instrument. I grabbed them with my other hand to try to stop it.

"Interesting," Bruce murmured.

"Were you afraid of losing? Afraid I'd be disappointed?" Tony's grin was back, his eyes bright with the many jokes and comments I'm sure he had running through his brain. I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued on without my answer. "Speaking of losing, how's it going, boys?" Tony peeked over my shoulder and I turned, getting a good look at Steve and Thor. They were both sweating, though Steve appeared to be the more tired of the two, his breathing heavier. He shot a smile at me, his blue eyes glistening. My body did the strangest jolt.

"I've got to say, I really wasn't expecting that." He shook his head in disbelief, still watching me, almost curiously. When I turned my eyes to Thor, however, he just looked disappointed. He squinted at me against the light of the sun, his brow furrowed.

"I lost. To a female who is not even a warrior of Asgard," he muttered, running a hand through his golden hair. "I do not understand what you are, Annabelle Green, but I see greatness in you. With work, you could exceed the powers of even the warriors I have come to know from my home. Take pride in that. Do not let that go to waste." He ended with the hint of a smile. Thor, god of thunder, one of the mighty Avengers, believed I had potential. And, by the sound of it, a lot of potential. I had never felt so proud, nor so determined. My body did another involuntary twitch.

Tony let out a chuckle and walked past me, slapping a hand down on Thor's shoulder.

"Laying it on thick this morning, aren't we?" Tony asked with a grin. Thor gave him a confused look.

"What? What is thick? And where am I laying it?"

"Okay, now onto test number two," Tony started, walking back over to me as Steve leaned closer to Thor, trying to quietly explain the phrase 'lay it on thick,' from the little I could hear. Tony draped an arm around my shoulder, explaining the second test, though I wasn't really listening. My ears were beginning to ring the more I twitched, and I wondered if my head was jolting too much and causing cranial issues. I stuck a finger in my ear, something my father would have been mortified at, then turned to Tony and blinked a few times.

"Got it?" Tony asked, his voice suddenly loud in my ear.

"Excuse me?" I asked. Tony let out a low and over-dramatic sigh. The buzzing in my ears ceased, for now.

"You weren't even listening."

"No," I admitted.

"Thor, get your hammer." Tony turned his head and I did as well, looking at Thor, who still looked mildly confused about the past conversation.

"Aye." He held out his hand in front of him, his palm out as if he were reaching to grab a vine to swing on. I stared at his hand, then looked around at the others for answers. By the looks on their faces, I wasn't about to get one.

"What does that have to—" I started, but was suddenly interrupted as something whizzed past my head, picking up my hair like a strong wind and blowing it over my face. I let out a breath in shock and spit some hair out of my mouth, taking a hand and smoothing it back over my head so that I could see. In front of me, held in Thor's once empty hand, was a large hammer, engravings lining the edges. I had seen this hammer before, though only at a distance. The news could only get so close when they were reporting on superheroes, after all, and Thor seemed to be the least filmed of them all. Still, I realized this was the hammer that Thor used as his weapon. The famous hammer.

Thor threw it down, the metal cracking against the ground beneath my feet. My eyes widened slightly as I realized it had even left a dent. This hammer really packed a punch. After a few moments of silence, and no movement, I finally lifted my eyes from the hammer and looked around.

"Pick it up," Tony prompted, nudging me. I opened my mouth in protest but quickly shut it, accepting this. Was this some kind of test of strength? I leaned down and grasped the large handle, pulling up. Only, the hammer didn't budge. I watched it curiously for a moment before pulling up on it again, only to get the same result. It was as if the hammer weighed a few tons, and there was no budging it. I dropped the handle and craned my neck to look up at Thor, who was wearing a grand smile. Thor was strong, this much I was aware of, but there was no way he was that strong. There had to be some other aspect to this that I didn't understand.

"What is this?" I asked, still bent over the hammer.

"Only Thor can wield Mjolnir," Bruce explained.

"If you were listening to my explanation, you would already know that," Tony added.

"Then you just wanted to see me bend over and make a fool out of myself?" I asked. Steve snorted. Tony's eyes rolled, so far back in his head that for a moment only the whites were visible.

"Why does everyone think I'm a pervert?" Tony muttered. Steve gave him a look. We all knew why.

"I believe what Stark is getting at is that he thinks you can pick it up anyway," Steve said, his arms crossed. "Am I right?"

"For once," Tony responded. "Annabelle, if your powers mainly revolve around energy—you know, like with the tower and the lights—you may be able to somehow use Thor's hammer. It's just alien magic. Or, actually, it's some kind of science that I just haven't cracked yet. I'm sure there's a way you can figure it out."

"But I'm not magic," I said slowly, "and I'm not Asgardian, nor am I an alien at all. This seems a little out of my league."

"And the hammer does not run on electricity," Thor added. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, though his face was twisted a bit, amused.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Green," Tony said. "You just blew these boys out of the water with your running." I sighed, wrapping my hands around the handle again.

"I'm convinced you just like the view," I grumbled, pulling with all my strength with no results. I let out a breath and tried again, the veins in my arms popping out, sweat beating on my forehead. At this rate, all I was going to do was throw out my back.

"Don't try too hard," Bruce warned, as if he knew what I was thinking. I nodded my head and puffed some hair out of my face, this time trying a different approach. I didn't pull. I closed my eyes and breathed in, reading into the little fog of energy surrounding the hammer. I hadn't known it was there until now, but suddenly the golden light was so clear to me, so obvious, as if it had been there the whole time. I became aware of my own little strands of light again and forced them to extend, the little blue strings expanding from my fingers and wrapping around the golden handle of Mjolnir, as if little tiny nerves. They were like an extension of my soul, my mind, crawling down and collecting at the base of the hammer until the golden flow of light surrounding it was tinted blue. I opened my eyes.

With one tug the hammer came flying up, suddenly weightless in my hands. I held it out in front of me, examining the intricate details lining the sides now that it was at eye level. It really was a beautiful weapon, this Mjolnir, though I could feel the power surging within it. I could only imagine what Thor felt when he held it. It was bonded to him, after all. I was only borrowing it. I stayed silent for a moment as the others watched me, a mixture of emotions crossing their faces. It took me longer than it should have to realize what I had just done. I had lifted Thor's hammer. The magical hammer that was used time and time again to defend this planet, as well as countless others. The weapon of choice to Thor, widely considered a godly being. And I was holding it in front of me like a toy. A smile crept over my face as I let go of the handle with my left hand, swinging the hammer with my right playfully. I couldn't seem to tap into any of the powers that the hammer possessed, not that I should have even thought about trying, but just holding it was enough of an accomplishment to me. I spun it around once more before holding it out to Thor, presenting it like the sacred object it was.

"I believe this is yours?" I didn't know why I felt so giddy. Somewhere in the back of my head I was cringing at this dramatic display. Yet there was a swell of pride inside of me that I couldn't ignore, and that was enough to fuel me for a bit. Thor watched me in awe as he slowly took the hammer out of my hands, inspecting it for damage before dropping it next to him.

"I'll be honest; I didn't expect that to work," Tony said suddenly, clapping his hands together. "Congratulations. Well done. Bravo." He came closer and ruffled my hair like a child, messing it up more than it had already been. I smoothed it back down, though at this point it was deciding to already have a mind of it's own. I was sure the static from whatever electricity I could magically wield now was only making it worse than it usually was.

"Now let's all try it. Take turns. Eh?"

"Not today, Stark. Another time." Thor gave him a look, picking up and holding his hammer protectively.

"Fine, fine. Killjoy. Next test, then." Tony really was persistent, it seemed. It didn't look like I was going to get a break.

"I'd like to take that lunch now," I said, sighing. I still had absolutely no appetite, but despite my pride I really did want to give this a rest for now. What if I failed the next thing? What if we'd found the two things I could do, and it would only go downhill from here? He ignored my pleading look and took me by the shoulders, walking me over to the ledge of the building as far as we could go without falling off. I looked over the edge uneasily.

"Can you fly?" Tony whispered, his words dangerous. I swallowed hard. Then I was shaking my head, rapidly, knowing full well that this wasn't going to be a good test. And the ground was so far...

"Tony what exactly are you going to—" Steve began to yell from where he was standing, but Tony answered his question before he could finish. He gave me a good shove off the side of the building, my legs tingling as my feet slipped off the ledge. I screamed in fear, tumbling through the air, twisting and turning. The wall beside me was dangerously close, but that wasn't what I was worrying about. It was the quickly approaching sidewalk that caught my attention, though I could barely keep my focus on it with my hair whipping around my face.

"I can fly! I can fly! I can fly!" I screamed at myself, my body sparking with agitation. The jolting was back, and at full force. I tried to focus on imaginary wings, levitation, anything, but nothing seemed to be happening. "Fly!" I yelled louder, trying to flap my arms like a bird. Really, all that accomplished was me looking like an idiot midair. I started to panic, the ground creeping closer and closer, my eyes burning from the wind. "I can't fly!" I screeched, covering my face with my arms to hide my eyes. I was ready for the impact of the ground when something suddenly caught me by the arms and sent me flying upwards, my stomach dropping at the movement. I tilted my head back to find Tony, fully suited up in his Iron Man armor, the two of us shooting upwards at a high speed. I let out a slight breath of relief as he dropped me back at the top, my legs shaking and my heart pounding uncontrollably and unnaturally in my chest.

"What were you thinking?!" Steve started, going off on him, which I normally would have found flattering. Right now, I could barely even focus my scattered brain enough to keep myself standing.

"You realize the scare of that could have given her a heart attack?" Bruce added, somewhat angrily. He grabbed my arm and pressed his fingers against my wrist to check my pulse, like I was a sick patient. I was surprised he could keep his hand steady enough to get a good reading, considering my arm was shaking so badly.

"You're right. That was stupid. Maybe if she knew it was coming, she could catch herself," Tony said. He turned to me, a hard look on his face, and spoke seriously, "Annabelle. I'm going to push you off the edge." Everyone tried to speak at once, opposed to the idea, but before anyone could stop him he had shoved me off again, and I went falling back towards my death. A sick feeling in my stomach told me Tony wasn't going to catch me this time. I held my breath and spun around so my feet were facing the ground, spreading my arms out to the sides to keep from spinning violently. My body relaxes as I prepared myself to make contact, electricity snapping around my skin as I jolted, twitching against the rush of the wind. I could hear a few gasps of terror and surprise from the people down below me as I freely fell towards the sidewalk, the pedestrians all scattering and moving out of the way frantically. I squeezed my eyes shut. Then, all at once, I had hit the ground. The air around me stirred up dust, little particles forcing themselves into my mouth and up my nose, pressure under my feet. My legs mildly ached, but it seemed my body was too in shock to feel much else. I put my hand to the ground in hopes to steady my body, my brain fuzzy with nausea. Among the yells and sounds of the city around me, along with the renewed buzzing in my ears, I could hardly take a moment to process. After a few seconds of trying to collect myself, though, I opened my eyes, finding that a large cloud of dust and debris was settling over my skin. Coughing, and blowing some of the dust out of my lungs, I waved the cloud out of my face and stood up. Feet shuffled around me, loud in my ears in comparison to the quiet murmurs of the people. Soon Steve and Thor were standing above me, peering down. I hadn't realized until now that I had created a hole that seemed at least a foot and a half deep, putting me a bit below the sidewalk's surface. I blinked some dirt out of my eyes and rested my head back, groaning.

"What happened?" I mumbled, still disoriented, trying to focus my blurry eyes on the Avengers' faces.

"Well," Thor scratched the back of his neck, his eyes moving around to examine the area around me. "You have made a very big hole again."

"And you aren't dead." Tony added, as if it wasn't obvious, landing just beside my 'crater'. His landing only brought up more dust and I coughed again, my senses overwhelmed.

"That was still incredibly stupid," Steve spat. He held out his hand to help me out of the hole, lifting me up and brushing my shoulders off with his hand. He hesitated a moment and then brushed his hand through my hair, which I was certain was even more of a mess than he or I could fix. I watched his face, trying to keep my eyes from straying to the hole I had made, the damage clearly visible in the corner of my eye. Just thinking about that hole was making me dizzy all over again. And I was _still_ twitching.

"Thank you," I sputtered, realizing Steve was probably waiting for some sort of recognition. He nodded his head and then looked at Tony, who was running his mouth excitedly to Thor. He looked like he was only half listening. I was glad I wasn't the only one who zoned out when Tony was running his mouth.

"—think we should do a few more tests to see what she can do. There could be endless possibilities to her powers. We just need to get one of those Tesla coils and—"

"Tony let's give her a break for now. We don't know how much she can take in a day," Steve said, somewhat defensively. Tony waved him off.

"Fine. Tomorrow then." He thought for a second. "But, one more thing." He turned to me and grabbed me firmly by the shoulders, his metal hands cold against my skin. "If you can land from that far, you might be able to jump. Not as good as flying, but it's still something. Want to give it a go?"

I didn't answer, but I suspected he didn't need one. There didn't seem to be much of a choice for me at this point. Even though my mind and body buzzed with energy, I pulled myself away from him and looked up at the tower. Tony seemed to be pretty spot on with everything else I could do so far; I didn't think he would leave me alone until I tried it. I took a deep breath in and bent my knees, readying myself to jump. I focused the light inside of me downward, welling up in my feet, little sparks of light once again dancing across the bare skin of my arms. To the people who still scattered the streets, I'm sure I either looked stunning or terrifying. Maybe both.

I sprang, my body gliding upwards. The wind whipped against my face as I reached higher and higher, my body feeling weightless, just as the hammer had before. It wasn't long, though, before I could feel myself start to slow down, still a ways away from the top of the building. I refused to fall all the way back down and grabbed the side of the building, my body slamming against a window. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment to collect myself, trying to keep that nerve-like energy flowing throughout my body, and then looked down, finding myself to be dangling over the city. Nausea rolled over me but I held my breath and put my feet to the wall, planting them firmly on the side. If I could run at such fast speeds upright, there was a possibility that I would be able to 'defy' gravity and run along the side of the building. If I could get up enough momentum, I could reach the top without having to climb. _One. Two. Three._ I let go of my grasp on the building and jolted upwards, focusing on keeping my feet on the surface of the wall. I could feel my body arc backwards but refused to let myself fall, tipping myself forward and speeding up. In a few short moments I was at the edge of the building, where Tony had pushed me off. I grabbed the ledge, flipping myself backwards, up and over, onto my feet. I had always been flexible since I was a little girl, thank goodness, so the maneuver was smooth. That being said, it certainly wouldn't hurt to exersize my body now that I was here. That is, if I was going to be here for very long. I'd let myself forget about my father and the circumstances of my being here, but now that it was in my mind it was overwhelming.

Bruce, who had never left the roof, hurriedly made his way over to me.

"I can't make any excuses for him. That was really uncalled for. All of this is uncalled for. I'm so sorry," he said, running a hand through his curls. A rush of movement behind me told me that Tony and the others had made their way back up, which was confirmed when Tony dropped Steve right next to me. Steve grumbled and brushed his hair down, mumbling something about aircrafts.

"Well done, Green. I thought you were going to fall back down, but you thought on your feet. Literally." Tony said, retracting his mask and clapping his metal hands together a few times. "You're a smart cookie."

"That is the one thing I'm known for," I said, my father still on my mind. Tony apparently thought I was making a joke, though, and laughed.

"Well, I'm hungry. Lunch time," he said, metal, claw like arms reaching out from the floors to take his armor. All of this had only taken about a half an hour, though, so it seemed he'd already forgotten about breakfast. That, or all this pushing me around stirred up an appetite.

"Can your next order of business be supplying me with some suitable clothes?" I asked, following after him as he went through the doors and inside.

"I'm buying. Take my credit card. Whatever you want," he responded. The cool air of the building flooded my body with relief.

"I really only need a few things. I will pay you back," I said as I followed, though I wasn't sure where I'd ever get the money. I could flip burgers at a fast food joint, I supposed. That was something so vastly different than my life before that it almost seemed appealing. Even though I had studied a lot in my lifetime, none of that had counted for any sort of college credit, so I would get what I could without a degree.

"Don't worry about it," Tony responded. "I don't have time to take you out, though, so you're on your own."

"I don't really know my way around New York, but I suppose I can manage if you give me a map." Honestly I wasn't even sure if a map would help me in this crazy city; I'd hardly been to Chitose, let alone alone in New York. Although, I think I had been to New York once before, a long time ago. The memory was somewhere in there. But, like many others, I quickly discovered it was out of reach.

"If you get lost, just wander around or something. You're sure to find your way back eventually. It's a big tower."

"I—" I stopped walking and let him walk ahead of me. "I guess I can manage that."

A gentle hand touched my shoulder, and I looked over to see Bruce, who had obviously followed us in. Steve and Thor were still out on the roof talking, and I had the odd, fluttery feeling that their topic was me.

"I'll take you. Don't worry," Bruce said. "Want to go after lunch?"

"I'm not that hungry," I said. "But, yes. Please. Thank you, Bruce."

"Maybe we can just head out now. That bowl of cereal will keep me going for a bit. And it's"— he stopped, peering at his watch—"only ten thirty. I mean, I'm not one to judge about when you eat lunch, but..." He shook his head, smiling a bit to himself, then turned that smile on me. "Let's go, then. Quick trip."

"Yes please," I said.


	8. Book I Ch 8

I peered into every store front window we passed, unable to hide my excitement as I examined all the different styles of clothes that were displayed on manikins. Technically, I had never gone out shopping for myself like this. The things I had back home were things that my father had picked for me, and occasionally—very rarely—he would ask my opinion on a color. Of course, in my father's eyes, being able to choose my own clothing was too much freedom. Every time I asked, he would say, 'What, you don't like my sense of fashion? Come now, Annie, that's insulting'. Was it, though?

"Isn't that gorgeous?" I exclaimed, pushing my finger to the glass, where a manikin wearing a deep red satin dress stood. It was low cut and layered towards the bottom, something that my father would have found way too elegant. Besides, he was never one for the color red. Bruce chuckled under his breath beside me and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I like that one. I liked the last few too," he said, his smile reflected in the glass. I turned towards him, suddenly embarrassed, and gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, I'm being annoying. I need to calm down." I took in a few deep breaths. _You're a grown woman, Annabelle. Stop acting like a five year old. You're only looking at clothes._ Still, this was something so different than the life I'd had before, something that seemed trivial yet so freeing. I couldn't help myself. I would try to tone it down with Bruce in mind.

He chuckled.

"You don't have to calm down. This is entertaining." He grinned, a somewhat laid back look in his eyes. He looked calmer than I'd seen him so far. Even though the streets were filled and cars were honking in every direction, he seemed to feel safe here. "Besides, I don't blame you. This is a new experience for you, obviously. You deserve to be excited," he continued.

"You're sure? I'm not too much?" I asked, to which he chuckled again.

"You're just fine." He smiled. "Should we go inside here, then? This place looks nice. You have to stop browsing and actually start shopping here soon." He pointed to the entrance of the shop, looped lettering scrawled across the door with a name I didn't recognize.

"This place is so fancy, though. I don't really need anything fancy," I said, stuffing my hands in the deep pockets of the sweat pants Tony had given me. My appearance now was in stark contrast to what the mannequins were dressed up in. People would surely look at me when I entered the store and know immediately that I didn't belong, and the thought of all those eyes on me made my heart beat a little bit faster.

"Tony has plenty of...celebrations. You'll probably need something like this at some point." Bruce answered, watching me. I rocked back and forth on my heels. I almost corrected him, letting him know that I wouldn't be staying for long, that something was bound to happen to take me away from all this, but I couldn't form the words to do it. For now it would be nice to pretend that I'd be staying with them forever. It would be like some ongoing dream, one that I'd never need to wake up from. I knew better, but the sentiment was nice.

"I don't even have any money." As if to prove my point, I pulled out the deep pockets.

"That's fine. Tony's treat, remember?" He dug a credit card out of his pocket—most likely Tony's—and flashed it at me.

"I don't want to waste his money on something silly like this,"

"I don't think he would mind if you bought a few dresses. He has plenty to spend. Really, he'd be more than happy to help you out."

"You don't think he'll be mad at all?"

"Not at all." He gave me a reassuring smile. I took a deep breath and nodded.

"Then I guess we're going in here. But I won't buy too much, I promise."

That was a lie. In just a half an hour I was crammed in a dressing room piled with dresses and fancy clothing, Bruce waiting beyond the door. The first few dresses ended up disappointments, not fitting exactly right, but by the time I got to the fourth one things started looking better. This dress was a light shade of purple, bunched up at the bottom, strapless. It hugged my figure nicely, but not too tight, offering the perfect balance. I brushed some wrinkles from the fabric, pulling my hair out from behind me and pushing it forward, where my dark, wavy curls blended nicely with the color of the dress. I could hardly recognize myself as I looked in the mirror, the dress far more elegant than anything I had ever been in. I looked like a princess. Now, all I needed was a tiara.

"Are you, uh, doing okay in there?" Bruce called from outside, his voice muffled by the door. He must have heard the lack of movement and found it suspicious. I cleared my throat and tore my eyes away from the mirror, looking instead at the silver door handle.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Just checking. Found anything you like yet?"

"Actually, yeah. I did," I said, glancing at my reflection once more before turning again, placing my hand on the handle. The metal was cold against my skin. I hesitated for a moment before turning it and peeking out at Bruce, his back against the wall across from me. "Do you...want to see?" I asked slowly. He looked at me, a bit taken aback.

"Sure. Okay." He smiled slightly. I pushed the door open fully and stepped out into the narrow hall of the dressing room, immediately feeling silly. Why was I putting myself out like this? I should have turned around and gone back in to try everything else on, yet here I was, displaying myself. A woman nearby, hanging a few silk shirts on a rack, turned and remarked, "Oh, how beautiful! That looks perfect." I could feel my cheeks flush with color. Bruce, still propped against the wall, ran a hand through his hair. I opened my mouth to apologize for potentially making him uncomfortable with this ridiculous scene, but his expression stopped me. A warm smile had grown on his face, his eyes sparkling ever so slightly as he examined the dress.

"This looks wonderful," he said, meeting my eyes. "You have good taste."

"You really think so?"

"I do."

"Thank you." I smiled, though I was certain my cheeks were still flushed. "I was a bit worried that it wouldn't fit in the sides..."

"Well, let's see." Bruce gently took my arms and lifted them to the side, turning me a bit, his eyes focused on the stitching in the dress. I held my breath and stood still, waiting until he turned me back forward and dropped my arms.

"Looks exactly right to me. Like it was fitted just for you."

"I thought so too. So, you think I should buy it?"

"Absolutely,"

"I'm afraid to look at the price tag..." I mumbled, suddenly aware of the little strip of paper that was tied to the zipper.

"Don't even look at it. Really, Tony's a billionaire. These kinds of things...they're nothing to him. I wouldn't worry about it at all." Despite this, he procured his glasses from his shirt pocket and wiped the lenses, slipping them over his face and grabbing at the tag of the dress where it hung near the side. I couldn't read his expression, but something in the energy around him skipped.

"Totally fine," he said again, sounding slightly less sure, yet amused. "Don't worry about it."

"I guess he does kind of owe me for pushing me off a building," I muttered. Bruce chuckled.

"There you go," he said. I took my leave and shut the door behind me as I entered the dressing room, taking one last glance at myself before I slipped out of the gown and surveyed the pile of clothes still waiting to be tried on. They all looked so nice—too nice—but I had spent a lot of time picking them out, so I figured I could at least try them all on. Of course I'd only need a few. I dressed myself up in what I'd chosen, leaving the room again to ask Bruce's opinion.

After a few outfits it was clear that I was making a show out of myself for Bruce, strutting out of the room and twirling around in front of him, waiting for his approval. Each time Bruce would complement the fit or design of the dress, his smile never faltering. The people passing in and out of the store probably thought we were together, a few of them shooting us looks as we laughed at how much of a fool I was making myself. But, honestly, I didn't think I could see Bruce that way, and I knew he felt the same. I could feel his admiration for me, but it wasn't romantic. It was...warm. The colors in his aura were surprisingly calm given his difficult circumstances. His show of kindness was alarming and new, but it wasn't bad. It was something I had craved my entire life. When I was with my father, all I wanted was acceptance. No matter what I did, no matter how many books I read or how many languages I learned or how many men I persuaded to help support him, he never once looked at me with approval. Being here with Bruce, I felt I was getting what I'd been missing; after all these years, I finally had a father figure that admired me and wanted to help me, despite the very little time we'd been aquainted. Of course, Bruce was far from my father. But there was something about that look on his face every time I ran out of that room to show him something new, something that made me feel special, and that seemed close enough to me. Maybe it was all for show anyway. I didn't mind.

In an hour and a half we were out of that store, bags in hand, heading to our next destination. We hit at least 10 stores before I felt I finally had everything I needed. I could have shopped all day, but I could tell Bruce was getting tired so I gave it a rest. There would be other opportunities to shop, I realized. I was no longer confined. I had free will. Until the inevitable happened and I was torn away from the tower, I would have the chance to make outings like these, and I'd be able to express myself freely.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Bruce asked, as we walked back to the car we came in. I shook my head, giving him a grateful smile.

"I'm okay. This is more than enough." Bruce popped the trunk and I shoved my bags in the back, barely able to fit everything in. We had to slam it closed, and I made sure nothing had a chance to fall out before sliding into the seat and buckling myself in. Bruce got in next to me and started the ignition, putting the car in drive. He glanced over at me, his hand still on the key.

"Do you know how to drive a car, Annabelle?" he asked. I flushed and looked down at my hands, running one thumb over the other.

"Not exactly," I said quietly, taking a deep breath.

"Not exactly..?"

"...no. I don't." I admitted. He chuckled beside me.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll have to get you a car and teach you. Not that you'll need to actually drive much around here. You can get a taxi or other means of transportation. Still, it's a nice skill to have." I nodded slowly.

"I never really had a reason to drive back home. But if I ever go anywhere where I need to, I suppose it would be a valuable skill to learn."

"We'll help get you sorted out." With that he put the car in reverse, pulling out into the busy traffic behind us. We sat in silence, the buzz of the car engine the only sound besides the few car horns here and there. I took in a deep breath and looked out the side window, watching the people walk along the sidewalk, living out their lives. I wondered what it was like to be them, walking around the streets of Manhattan, busy with thoughts of work and family and whatever else it was that city people thought about. I'd never had to worry about any of that. The only thing I was used to worrying about was if my father was in a good mood. Beyond that, nothing much else mattered. I was so different from these people around me, their minds full of life. My mind was only full of doubt and the occasional curiosity.

"I owe you one, Bruce," I said after a while, my mind still wandering.

"You don't owe me anything, Annabelle. I was happy to do this." He was tapping his fingers across the steering wheel. I smiled to myself faintly, resting my forehead against the glass.

"Is the city pretty at night?" I asked.

"Some parts of it, yeah. Why?"

"I've just...always wanted to see the city lights at night. I could see the faint lights of Chitose from my house, but that's usually as close as I got. And, of course, I was wandering around New York the other night...but I was too disoriented and tired to even look at the lights." I closed my eyes, turning my neck a bit so that the side of my head was against the window. It was cool; soothing.

"We can all go, one night. How does that sound? We can even go to Times Square."

"That sounds amazing..." I said, a bit on the quieter side. I could just imagine standing under all those lights, the energy surrounding them so bright and soft like silk. The moon would shine brilliantly over the tops of the buildings, the warm light pooling across the streets. I had never wanted something so bad, at that moment, the image too irresistible to shake. And, with my new acquaintances by my side, the night would be even more magical. Even if something did happen, and my father did come back to get me, I would make sure to visit there first.

We pulled into the garage of the tower and I unbuckled my seat belt, leaving the car. I pulled all of my bags out from the trunk, nearly spilling everything in the process. Bruce quickly grabbed a stray bag that was hanging precariously from my arms, taking a few more from me before heading inside. I followed, using my elbow to shut the trunk. We came to the main room, where nearly everyone was sitting around. The T.V. was blaring; news flashed across the screen.

"Get everything you needed?" Tony asked, looking over the back of the couch at me. I nodded and smiled.

"Yes, I did. Thank you so much, Tony. I'm very grateful."

"No problem, kid." He smiled.

"I'm going to go change," I said nodding at him before heading up the stairs. I was eager to get into something more comfortable, or, at least something that actually fit. The sweatpants-t-shirt combo was certainly comfortable enough, but too baggy and relaxed for my taste. I entered the room they'd left me in the night before and set my bags down, sifting through them until I found something nice to wear. I pulled out a light blue blouse and some white shorts, stripping off the other clothes and folding them nicely on the dresser. Jarvis would surely get them later. I examined myself in one of the elongated mirrors at the edge of the room, brushing down the blouse. There was one wrinkle that I just couldn't seem to get flat, no matter how many times I smoothed my hand over it. I knew the clothes were going to be thrown into a washer—and honestly they probably should have been washed before I put them on—but I wanted them to look presentable for now. I wanted everyone to see me in my own clothes, my own style, my own personality.

The wrinkle continued to be difficult as I left the room and headed back to the group. I mumbled to myself and pushed my hand down on the fabric, simultaneously missing the first step to the stairs and losing my footing. A weird sound escaped my lips as I stumbled forward, the back of my heel knocking against the second step as I tried to regain my footing. In a flash of movement, and hair, Thor was suddenly in front of me, grabbing my arms to steady me out. I blinked in surprise and tried to catch my breath, my heart racing, pounding rapidly in my chest. Those little bits of electrical currents ran out along my skin. They seemed to almost be a physical representation of an adrenaline rush; maybe that's exactly what they were. Thor, who was still holding my arms, examined them just as curiously as I did.

"Are you alright, Annabelle Green?" he asked after a moment, giving me a once over to check for injuries. It felt as if my heart were going to beat itself right out of my chest, right through the skin. After his inspection he held my arm slightly to the side, watching my skin closely, keeping his eyes locked on the little currents of blue light until they started to subside. I couldn't help but watch his face as he did this, some of his blonde hair falling across his cheek. He looked perplexed.

"I'm okay," I said finally. "Thank you."

"You seem to enjoy falling," he said with a smirk, and I was brought back to last night, when falling up the stairs had been the problem. He finally met my eyes, that smirk still strong on his lips.

"I've become clumsy, I guess. I'll try not to stumble into you anymore." I said this lightheartedly, though I certainly would do my best to be careful. Perhaps the addition of the abilities had altered my balance, which was typically very good until now. My body was undergoing all sorts of changes after what had happened, I guess.

"It is no problem. At least you know I am here to catch you." His smile broadened. I felt the blood rush to my face. It was such a corny line, but he seemed entirely serious. If only the guys at my father's party had been as charming, even unintentionally. Instead, they were usually buzzed and spouting all kinds of condescending scientific facts, most of which I already knew about. In those times I just had to nod and smile, act the part. Do what father said.

"I'm going to head downstairs and give these back," I said, realizing I'd been standing there, still watching his face.

"Be careful, Annabelle Green. Protect yourself and your abilities." I nodded, trying not to let the odd feeling that bubbled up inside of me at his words be conveyed by my face. I stepped past him as he dropped my arms and descended the few remaining steps.

The large TV in the main room was still turned on, images flashing across it, the sound set loud. I rested my elbows against the back of the couch, looking up at the big screen.

"...news? You're watching the news? Not something that's actually entertaining?" I asked, mildly disappointed. I had spent my whole life watching the news, next to other stupid 'educational programming' shows, and I was hoping that there would at least be something good to watch here. I'd heard wonders about reality TV shows that were nothing but women yelling at each other, and even though that sounded completely ridiculous, they were something so mind-numbing that I found myself at least a little curious.

"If you don't like it, then you can leave." Tony said, turning his neck and flashing me a grin. I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to protest, but was suddenly interrupted by the jingling sound of the doorbell. It was surprisingly normal, given what the tower was. All this high-tech equipment and décor, and yet Tony had still installed a doorbell that sounded the same as any other.

"Someone is at the door, sir." Jarvis piped up, to which Tony sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it. Anyone want to get that?" He glanced around the room at the few other faces and then at me. "Moment of truth, kid. Can you answer a door?"

"Of course I can," I shot back.

"And be polite to my guests?"  
"Trust me, I know how to be polite to guests."  
"I definitely want to hear more about that." He shook my head and walked towards the elevator, pushing the button and then shooting a look at Tony, who was making weird eyes at me from across the room. Had what I said implied what I'd actually been told to due with guests at my father's? Probably. But that certainly wasn't a story I was going to be telling anyone here.

I jogged around the corner as the elevator doors opened at the bottom, hoping whoever was here hadn't left. Wasn't Jarvis supposed to check on these things and let people in and out? Then again, the way he'd worded his question made me think that this was another weird test of Tony's, some examination of my ability. I opened the door and tried my best to put on a polite smile, though it already started fading as terror rose in my gut. There was something wrong behind that door, but I was already opening it, and it was too late.

"Stark Tower, how may I he-..." My words died on my lips as it hit me all at once. I backed up slowly and let go of the support of the door, letting my hand fall beside me. My feet scuffed against the tile as I backed away, but the figure I knew all too well grabbed me by the arms and yanked me forward, squeezing my skin. Just being close to him made my heart beat quickly and irregularly, my breathing becoming taxed and difficult. I examined his face, that chiseled, German face, and then did something that I didn't expect. I screamed.

"Annie, please, contain yourself. It's like you aren't even happy to see me," he murmured, his voice low and intimidating. I broke off my scream and looked away from him, letting my thick hair cover my face as tears sprang to my eyes.

"What are you doing here, father?" I asked, my voice shaking. He began to say something, a German sound rolling off his tongue, before he was suddenly interrupted by Steve entering. His glorious figure was standing in the doors of the elevator, having made it down very quickly. I realized Jarvis must have given video feed of who was at the door and the crew had pieced it together. Tony, getting off the elevator after Steve, looked at me with full realization of his grave mistake.

I squeezed my eyes shut, silently praying that they would just go away and leave my father to take me back. I didn't want all of the trouble I knew this was going to cause. I couldn't open my trembling lips to say anything, though, so I only stood there looking pathetic. My father's menacing laugh slipped from his mouth quietly, his breath hot against my face. He was too close. I felt like my heart was going to cease, crushed under the weight of his presence. He gripped my shoulders and pushed me at an arm's length away, an odd sparkle in his eyes.

"How interesting that they took you in here," he said, quietly, his words directed at me, then put on a smile and faced the others. By now everyone was off the elevator, watching with caution. "I thank you for taking this wretched child in. I do hope she hasn't caused you any trouble." His English always sounded too sharp to me, too German, but I couldn't imagine it being any other way.

"No trouble at all. We like her," Tony said, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets.

"She is quite a charming thing, isn't she?" My father turned his eyes back on me, the same green color that I saw every day in the mirror. Yet his seemed darker, somehow, like they were overcast by the shadow of his cruel personality. "Still. You've disobeyed and disrespected me, Annabelle. And you've cost me an incredible amount of money with the stunt you pulled at our home. What were you thinking?" I couldn't speak. The glint in his eye was the only indication that he was almost amused by this conversation, amused by the power that he could clearly see he had over me. I couldn't move a muscle. I had these abilities now, these incredible and dangerous abilities that could send people through walls and shut down entire towers, yet I couldn't even imagine using them on my father. I couldn't lay a finger on him.

"Sounds like you had it coming, honestly. Besides, sometimes a fresh start can be good," Tony chimed in. I wished he would shut up. He didn't know what he was getting into.

"You will find a way to repay me the debt you've caused," my father said, his dangerous glare still centered on me.

"Yes, sir," I said quietly.

"I can't imagine what came over you."

"You kept me locked up there, and..." I trailed off, my father's internal energy spiking violently. I knew what that meant. I tensed prematurely, before my father's hand even collided with my jaw bone, knocking my head violently to the side from the force of the slap. My cheek immediately stung, and I knew a red mark was quickly making itself visible. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and hung my head, embarrassed and ashamed.

"I have provided everything for you. You have lived comfortably. Don't you dare say I mistreated you in any way," he said.

"If you ever hit her again, there's going to be a very big problem," Steve spat, stepping forward. Something in him was a lot darker than it had been before. I paled as I stood there, watching my father, irritation in his features. My father was manipulative, clever, and cruel, and he would always find a way out of whatever situation he was put into. I could tell that he was thinking up a way to make his slap appropriate. The disdain in his eyes as he sized up Steve scared me.

"Are you aware, Captain Rogers, that the police have been searching for Annabelle? She's a missing person now. As of this morning, I informed the police that she was still alive. Because I knew she was." My father was already weaving his web, carefully trying to turn the situation around.

"She's an adult. She can go wherever she wants. We aren't responsible for her coming here. She came here by choice." I was surprised that no one other than Steve was speaking up now, despite Tony's earlier remarks, though maybe theywere just surveying the predicament to see if there was a logical way to do things. Steve was just angry, passionate, but that would do nothing against the way my father operated.

"You're right. But even adults can be kidnapped. And your 'kidnapping' of my daughter can be all over the headlines," he said.

"We didn't kidnap her."

"Oh, but I can make it seem that way. You'll be on my side...right Annabelle?" My father turned to me. An icy chill ran through my veins as I felt everyone's eyes on me, waiting for my answer.

"I-I..." I was at war with myself. All of them had been so kind to me for the short period of time I had been here. But, my father was my father. Even if I did hate him, he had always controlled my life, and he still did. Honestly, I was afraid of what he would do to get me to side with him, and I didn't want to cause anyone any trouble. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to get hurt. "Yes, sir," I said, defeated. My stomach churned with disgust for myself as the words left my mouth, but this was what I had to do. The others, irritated and ready to fight, didn't realize that I was saving them a boatload of trouble, and maybe even pain. I wasn't worth that much.

"That's a good girl." My father grasped my arm and pulled me up from my slouched position, settling me next to him. "Now, Annabelle and I are going home now. And no one will hear of any of this. Understood?"

"Never," Steve muttered angrily.

"Pity." He mumbled, in German. I quickly snapped my face towards him, watching as he reached his hand down and fumbled in his pocket, bringing out a sizable knife. I recognized this as one of my grandmother Hana's family heirlooms; it was an old dagger that she used to carry around during her days in the war. Fear shot through me.

"Father, don't hurt anyone. Please!" I yelled frantically, grabbing at his arm. He knocked me back and lifted the blade to my throat swiftly, silencing me. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, trying to stay calm. My father always had the perfect plan. No one was going to make a move if they thought my life was at risk. The blade was cold against my skin. It wasn't enough to draw blood yet, but I felt the pressure of it like it was suffocating me.

"We are leaving now. Don't protest." The room fell silent, silent enough to hear a pin drop on the roof. My eyes flicked to Steve, who had frozen where he was standing. Even he wouldn't risk this. My father nodded at them and slowly began to back out of the doorway, the knife still pressed up against my bare skin, raising goosebumps on my arms.

"Uh, yeah, slight problem with that," Tony spoke up before we were out of earshot. My father stopped, waiting. "You see," Tony continued, "we have a hulk."

"Yes, I'm aware of Dr. Banner's unfortunate condition, but even he can't stop-" He was cut off by an ear splitting roar that came from behind us, making me flinch. Bruce must have gotten away, sneaked out through some side door. The knife on my neck stung. My father turned his head slightly to the side and cursed under his breath. For once he seemed caught off guard, something I had never before seen in all my years. But he wasn't completely helpless; I could tell he was still thinking. He was going to gain something out of this meeting no matter what, just like with every situation, though I didn't know what he could possibly gain at this point. The trudging footsteps of the Hulk shook the ground as he got closer and closer, my father still contemplating what to do. He spun me around and held me firmly by one shoulder, giving me a strange look that I had never seen from him before. "I'll be back one day, Annabelle. When you're ready. When you realize your purpose," he spat out in German, moving the knife from my neck and plunging it deep into my chest. I felt the sting for only a moment before I lost all feeling. My eyes widened and my mouth gaped open, though no sound escaped my lips. "This is bigger than the both of us. You'll see. Do not disappoint," he continued, releasing the handle of the knife and letting me drop. I collapsed to my knees, my corneas burning, my heart throbbing. The tips of my fingers tingled. I could hear the sound of footsteps as my father fled the scene, clearly hoping to get away before Hulk got to him. I tried to open my mouth to say something, anything at all, but I couldn't form words. I stayed frozen, my eyes still burning and my body throbbing. I was only slightly aware of the shadowy figures that gathered around me, panic dancing around the normal energetic lights that had been dancing around them.

" _Annabelle? Annabelle!" I couldn't make out who was talking in the blend of voices, and my vision slowly started to fizz out and disintegrate. I could still see the strange glow of light, one belonging to each of them as they crowded me, even when my physical eyesight failed. It was strange...the lights weren't vision at all. They were there even as the rest of my sight went black, and I could feel their panic as clear as if it was my own. These energies, these...auras...they were so much brighter as everything else was failing. I managed a pained smile and tried to say 'I'm okay,' but couldn't keep myself up any longer, falling back onto the pavement leading up to the steps of Stark Tower. The earsplitting roar from The Hulk was the last sound that rung through my ears until I lost consciousness. And then...nothing._


	9. Book I Ch 9

" _You see, if you draw the ears like this, it looks more like a real bunny."_

 _My cousin, Portia, slowly erased the ears I had halfheartedly drawn and replaced them with her own set, kinking the ends slightly. She turned to me and grinned, her dimples plainly visible. Her black hair hung around her face, tied in a messy, loose, ponytail. It was easy to see that she and I were extremely different, her in her t-shirt and cut off shorts and me in my teal summer dress. I sat up straight in my chair while she sat slumped over, as if she had to be as close as possible to the table in front of us. Really, the only sign of us being related were our mossy green eyes that we had inherited from our grandmother. "Get it?" she asked, tapping her finger on the paper above the ears she had drawn. "Now you try." She turned the notebook around and slid it across the table towards me, popping her gum once. I took the pencil from her and examined the poorly drawn rabbit, images of real rabbits flashing through my head. This thing was a sorry excuse for a drawing, but I wasn't interested in fixing it._

" _I'm not very good at drawing," I mumbled, the excuse I gave every time. She scoffed and reached for the notebook and pencil back, snatching them out of my hands and huffing dramatically. Even at the ripe age of eleven, Portia was already spicy and overly-dramatic. I felt I was more mature than her, even though I was a couple years younger._

" _Yes you are! I've seen you draw. You're amazing at it. But, fine. If you don't want to draw a bunny, you don't have to." Portia had always been stubborn and loud, which was always amplified when we spoke in German. I saw the way our cook would stare into the room when Portia went on one of her excited rants, the German words sounding harsh and cold even though what she was saying was nothing of the sort. Of course, the cook had no way of knowing this; she only spoke Japanese. The poor woman looked at Portia like some sort of intimidating dictator, instead of the little girl she was. Then again, Portia wasn't that far off from a dictator. She could go on and on, slamming her fists on the table as she spoke about something she was passionate about, arguing her point. I never butted in, sitting quietly even when the subject she was spouting about had already been disproved. I couldn't speak up, because she was always right. I'd let her accept that._

 _To a lot of people this would come off as annoying, but I found it comical. Watching Portia's shenanigans was a nice distraction, the few times she did come over._

 _She brought the pencil to her lips and nibbled at the eraser, pondering what animal to mutilate next. My eyes wandered from the page and around the room, looking for something to keep me entertained. These days, simply sitting around and drawing just wasn't cutting it like it used to. I used to be entertained for hours by a sketchbook and pencil. But now...now there were a lot of other things running through my mind that made me want more. My brain was always working...always chipping away at new ideas._

" _Hey, Annie Bell? Do you like horses? I bet you I could draw one of those. They can't be too hard, right? I mean, you just draw the legs first...and then the body..."_

" _Mhm," I responded, resting my chin in my hands. I soon lost the rest of her conversation, preoccupied by the shadows that moved every so often under the doorway. They flicked in and out with the movement on the other side, where my father and aunt spoke in hushed whispers. I wished I could hear them, somehow, though I didn't need to listen to know that they were talking about me. They were always talking about me._

" _Oh, shoot! That doesn't look like a horse at all!" Portia yelled, snapping me out of my dazed thoughts. I tore my eyes from the doorway and looked first at her, then at the sheet of paper in front of her. The creature she had drawn in no way resembled any animal I was familiar with, and I had to put a hand over my mouth to keep myself from laughing out loud. Portia puffed up her cheeks, clearly insulted. "Well, I tried!"_

" _Here," I said, holding up my hands and sitting a little straighter, "Let me show you what a horse looks like." Portia's face lit up, her dimples even deeper. She knew what I was about to do. I didn't do it very often, but it was one of the things that got Portia really excited. And, honestly, it excited me too. I inhaled and closed my eyes, images of horses with flowing manes and shiny hooves dancing across my vision. I could feel my fingertips heating up, that familiar warm feeling rushing through my blood as sparks danced across my arms. The feeling that ran through me, pure joy and peace, extended out through my hands. I opened my eyes, my corneas burning with light, and watched as the figure of a little electric horse began to form. Portia watched with wonder from across the table, the snapping lights of the growing little horse reflecting in her eyes._

" _Oh, Annie Bell, I love it when you do your magic..." she said quietly, half dazed, mesmerized. I smiled widely, looking back at my hands, the little horse almost fully visible now. He was so close to being done, projected like a little life size model that I could bend to my will, but something stopped the process. My father's voice raised on the other side of the door, his anger spiking and spreading even into this room. His aura, tinged with dark, angry color, flooded my mind. A hint of it lodged itself in my brain, and I had to remind myself that it wasn't me that was angry. My little horse vanished, the magic gone. Portia's smile faded and she turned to look at the door across the room from us, where the shadows had stopped moving. In a moment the door flung open, my father storming out, his massive figure darkening the room with its shadow._

" _If you're going to degrade my parenting, then get out," he said, his voice still raised. My aunt followed behind him, her face flushed in anger._

" _Fine!" she yelled, her back to us. It amazed me how similar my aunt and father looked, despite being born a few years apart. They looked like they could be twins; they had the same looking build, face shape, hair color, and eye color. Even though this was true, I had never met two people so different. Even Portia and I seemed identical compared to those two._

" _Get out of my house. You don't understand the seriousness of the situation. I'm doing my best," my father spat. I frowned and looked to Portia, who was busy trying to focus on drawing her horse again, tears brimming in her eyes. I wanted to reach out to her, to try to excuse my father's words and actions and make her feel better, but I knew that wouldn't help at all._

" _Come on, Portia. We have to go now, baby," my aunt said, helping Portia to her feet and leading her to the door._

" _But I was going to watch Annie Bell do her magic!" she complained, looking at me sadly as she was dragged away. I flinched, feeling my father's instant irritation at the subject. I slowly turned my eyes towards him as my aunt and Portia exited the house, leaving just my father and me in this suddenly cramped room. It felt as if the walls moved closer._

" _You were using your abilities?" my father asked, his teeth somewhat clenched. I swallowed hard, standing up and brushing down the fabric of my little teal dress._

" _I was just going to show Portia how to draw a horse..." I said quietly, trying not to cower as my father stepped closer._

" _I told you never to use that. Especially not when your mother is so sick. Do you want her to die?!"_

" _No!" I sputtered, my heart pounding harshly in my chest. I met my father's eyes, his filled with hatred and almost...worry. He lifted his hand high and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in._

 _Smack._

My eyes fluttered open and focused on the tiny detailed rivets on the ceiling, a wave of nausea rolling over me.

"Father..." I mumbled, the memory buzzing around in my head and clouding me from reality.

"He is gone. Do not worry."

The soft voice startled me and I jolted up, a splitting pain running through my chest. I let out a strange sound and fell still, my breathing heavy. My eyes flicked to the side of my bed where the voice had come from, and I felt my body relax.

Thor.

He made a pained face and reached out to pat my shoulder a little. "I apologize. I should have made sure you knew I was here. It is currently my watch."

"Your watch?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I cleared my throat and turned my head towards him, trying to sit up a bit more. He nodded his head, brushing some of his golden hair behind his ear.

"One of us is watching you at all times to insure your safety. It is my turn now."

"I understand. Thank you." I lifted my stiff body and set myself up against the backboard of the bed, trying to ignore the shooting pain up my abdomen. I forced a pained smile. "I'm fine...just some mild pain." Thor gave me a look, and I sighed.

"You were causing all sorts of strange phenomena in your sleep. Some of us thought you were set to explode," he said.

"Well, wouldn't that fit in right with my luck," I muttered, trying to take a deep breath. "What time is it?"

"Seven forty two, A.M."

"So I guess I got a good night's sleep..."

I lifted my arms and examined them, the memory of the tiny horse still plain in my mind. No, not a memory: a dream. I had only just acquired my powers from the explosion. I wouldn't have had them way back then. All of this recent nonsense was messing with my mind, twisting memories with nightmares.

"Actually, a few nights of sleep. You have been out for quite some time," Bruce said, entering the room. He was cleaning his glasses with his shirt, which was un-tucked in a few places and a bit wrinkled. He looked tired. He _felt_ tired. The light at his core, the same energy that had become clearer and clearer as time went on, was duller than I'd seen it before.

"Really..."

I let out a deep sigh and lifted one of my shaky hands, running it through my hair. It was matted with knots, but I didn't even want to bother untangling them with my fingers. Looks didn't really matter anymore. Not now, at least.

Bruce came around to my bedside and set to work monitoring my vitals, taking my pulse, my blood pressure, anything else he could as I laid there quietly. Thor was still staring from his position, and there was something in his look that made me uncomfortable looking back. He seemed perplexed by the entire situation, my survival and the abilities that came with it, and I was starting to get that dreaded feeling I'd had so many times with my father. I felt like I wasn't human. I felt like I was being examined as some kind of anomaly, a test subject, and that made me uncomfortable. Above all, it made me kind of sad. I never wanted to be a test subject. And yet with my rash decision to destroy everything I'd known, I'd made myself my father's biggest guinea pig of all. It wasn't that difficult, really, to just walk away, yet I'd done something I couldn't take back.

His words came back to me as Bruce moved around me, silently. _This is bigger than the both of us. Don't disappoint._ What was bigger? What had he even been on about, so frightened and flustered, so filled with traits that were uncharacteristic of him? Why had he been so afraid?

"So, you probably think I'm a lot of work, huh?" I said, trying to distract myself from those words that echoed through my mind.

"Not really," Thor responded.

"I seem to get into a lot of trouble. I promise I was a quiet girl before. I don't know what's happened," I said.

"Have you met my brother?"

"Obviously not."

"He's more trouble. Trust me."

"You don't get along with your brother?"  
Thor paused a moment at this, looking away from me finally as he focused his eyes across the room deep in thought.

"It is not that. I loved my brother. He and I were quite close, mischievous as he was. But he has caused a lot of trouble as of late. It is more than I can forgive or excuse."

"He teamed up with a group of aliens and destroyed a good part of Manhattan," Bruce added. He had since stopped poking around and was now leaning against the wall nearby, examining a few things on a tablet. It was held close to his face, as if he couldn't see it from farther away.

 _Destroyed Manhattan._ My heart throbbed once, violently, and a nervous chill came over me. Somewhere in the back of my mind something sparked, though I wasn't fast enough to catch it before it was gone again. Why was that familiar? Surely I'd heard about it, but I couldn't recall anything regarding the event. Had my father kept it from me? Had I forgotten it? I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat at the mention and rested my eyes on Thor again.

"...yeah, I see how that could be a lot of work," I said slowly. I adjusted myself on my pillow.

"Can I get you anything?" Thor asked, watching my every movement with his brilliant eyes. I shrugged my shoulders, though the movement made my chest stretch and triggered a fair amount of pain. Twisting my face ever so slightly, I tried to keep from making any distressed noise.

"Is there anything I could read?" I asked. I was hoping that maybe if I had my face buried in a book he would stop staring at me, and maybe I'd be able to forget about the pain and the situation for a little while. Reading could always take me away, no matter the content.

"Ah, yes. A book. Knowledge. Knowledge is good."

His eyes scanned the room, a determined look on his face. He almost looked as if he was trying to summon one from where he sat. I had to wonder if something like that was possible on his home planet, or...wherever he was from.

"Never mind. It's okay." I said after a moment, once it was clear that Thor was not going to rise from his seat.

"Are you sure? If you require some kind of entertainment, I can find it for you."

"It's fine. I don't need anything."

"Tony could maybe get you set up with an e-book," Bruce suggested. I thought about holding one of the fancy Stark tablets and quickly shook my head. I had caused enough damage and enough trouble, and I didn't need to ruin one of those highly expensive devices on top of that.

"Would you like to talk? I know I am not the greatest at communication when it comes to talking to people from Midgard, but I have been told I'm a good listener," Thor offered.

"Who told you that?" Bruce asked, an amused look in his eye as he glanced over the tablet at us.

"Mind your mouth, Banner, I can listen better than anyone in this tower."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't really have much to say, anyway," I said, looking between the two. It was true that I'd never had too many opportunities to talk aside from with my father and his occasional party guests, and my conversation was always carefully crafted in those situations. I seemed to be awkward when talking about anything personal or natural. Everything had to be pre-planned to result in an advantageous interaction.

"Oh, I am sure you have plenty of things to say. You seem very interesting," Thor countered.

"Really, my life is boring. I never did anything,."

I looked him in the eye, hoping that this came across as entirely honest. He raised one big, blonde eyebrow.

"Nothing?"

"Not really. Father always wanted me to stay home. I had a lot of school work to do when I was young, and that kept me busy. Actually, it was keeping me busy right up until..." I stopped there, not wanting to bring up the explosion. That wasn't what I wanted to talk about.

"You studied a lot?"

"Yes. I've always been able to learn pretty quickly, so I studied many different things. My father taught me most of it, though I also had access to instructors that would come to the house. Some even came in from Tokyo, if my father could pay them enough. He wanted me to understand many things. And so I did," I explained. Thor sat back, his brow furrowed.

"That seems very tiresome."

"Not necessarily. I liked learning. I still do."

He sat forward again, closer than before. Strands of his golden hair fell out around his face and pooled onto the comforter.

"Did you ever study Asgard? Norse mythology?" he asked, intrigued. I had almost forgotten about his origins, or, rather, the origins that we gave him. It really was fascinating that something so alien was the basis to an entire religion; it made me wonder if other religions functioned the same way.

"I read a few mythology books," I said, realizing I'd gone too long without speaking. "They were fairly interesting. I'm sure they were mostly silly stories, though, compared to what you and your people have actually done."

"You would be surprised how many odd things my people have done in the past."

He smirked, leaning back again. I let out a quiet breath of relief. I wasn't sure why him being so close made me uncomfortable. Maybe it just felt too much like he was scrutinizing me, examining me like some object.

"What sort of things were you most interested in studying? If you don't mind me asking," Bruce spoke up. It seemed he was finally done with the tablet.

"Biology, biotechnology, biochemistry...basically anything to do with the study of life. I, like many recently, also took up astrobiology," I said. That darkened part of my brain sparked again. That's right: of course I'd known about Loki's invasion. That was why I'd gotten into astrobiology in the first place, wasn't it? That's why other people had done it. Surely I had been no different. When I tried to remember exactly when I'd started studying, however, my mind came up blank. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before giving up.

"Sounds like you could give Stark a run for his money," a new voice called from the doorway. I glanced up to find Steve, in a t-shirt and dark jeans, a smirk on his face. Just like that, I felt a whole lot sweatier. I tried to fight the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach, that automatic, stupid response that I couldn't turn off.

"No, definitely not," I muttered, bringing a hand up to uselessly try to straighten out my hair.

"Thor, Banner, Stark wants you downstairs. Apparently Fury is on his way, and he needs some back up."

"Fury?" I asked.

"Should you be greeting Fury as well?" Thor asked, ignoring me.

"..Stark told me to stay out of it. Had a bit of an arguement. I'm surprised you couldn't hear that from up here, actually"—he mumbled a few choice words before continuing—"but we decided that I'll swap watches with you. You go down. I'll stay here."

"Very well." Thor stood, his chair tipping and falling backwards onto the floor with the grand motion. He turned and stared at the chair for a moment, as if hoping it would set itself back up. Just like the situation with the book, he seemed to be under the impression that things would move on their own. After it didn't, he threw it back into an upright position, startling me a little. With one over-exaggerated turn he was out of the room, off to do his business. Bruce shot him a look as he left, setting the tablet down on the nearby dresser.

"Let us know if you need anything, Annabelle. We'll just be downstairs. Ask Jarvis for us," he said, following after Thor. "And take it easy, alright?"

I nodded my head as he left, very aware that they were leaving Steve behind with me.

He took his place in the chair, adjusting himself a bit before sitting back and getting comfortable. I tried to avoid looking at him, hoping that would somehow keep him from seeing how awful I surely looked. That, and I hoped it would calm the nerves that were so active within me every time he was near.

"So who's Fury?" I asked, still keeping my face turned away from him.

"He's the director of SHIELD. He's a pretty powerful influence with a big personality to boot," Steve explained, taking a deep breath in. "He's a little much for my taste."

"Why is he here?" I shifted my eyes a little to try to examine Steve's face, finding that he wasn't even looking in my direction. He seemed to be focused on the wall to the side of him, like he was deep in thought. The light within him—energy, aura, or whatever else it truly represented—was twisted in a strange way.

"He visits, sometimes," he answered, and I saw his jaw shift, clenching. It wasn't subtle enough for me to miss. I understood why he was so tense.

"He's here for me," I said, more for myself than for him. His eyes shifted down a bit, confirming my suspicion.

"Tony will get him to go away. Don't worry," he said quietly.

"He isn't a bad man, is he? Why the secrecy?"

I pushed myself up a bit, my pain notably less intense than before. Maybe they'd given me a dose of drugs not long before I woke up, and they were finally setting in. Whatever they were, they had to be strong to work on me. None the less, I was grateful for at least a little comfort.

"He'll want to take you back to SHIELD. Have you tested in a bunch of different things. Figure out what makes you tick. It's just bothersome, really. You don't need to deal with that," Steve mused. I got the sense he was talking more to himself. I could tell there was something he wasn't telling me. And this 'something' was obviously very important, considering he and the others were trying to cover it, and me, up. Why was going to SHIELD such a bad thing? As far as I knew, SHIELD was supposed to be full of the good guys. And didn't the Avengers work out of SHIELD? I had to admit that the mention of 'testing' had me a bit more on edge, but I tried to believe that this testing would be different than what my father had done. They'd be testing to make sure I was safe, just as Bruce had been doing. They wouldn't be testing for their own benefit. Right?

"You'll be better off here," Steve commented after a moment, as if he knew the gears in my head were turning in the silence. I nodded my head in response, running a hand over the comforter.

"Could you get me something?" I asked, looking at him, this time making sure to catch his attention and meet his eyes. I felt like I could melt in that blue color.

"What do you need?"

"Tea. Any kind is good. It calms my nerves."

"I can do that. Anything else?"

"I think I'm going to take a shower. So, maybe take your time with that tea? I'll only be about ten minutes. I don't want to embarrass the both of us and have you walk in on me...when I'm..."

"Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yes. I'll take my time," he sputtered, looking a bit flustered already. Him and I both. Just the thought of that situation made my heart beat a little bit faster and my face feel flushed.

"Thanks," I started, taking a bit of a calming breath, "I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem. Holler if you need anything." he stood up and made his way towards the door, pausing for a minute. "...do you need help getting to the bathroom?"

"No, no. I'll be okay. Thank you."

I gave him a grateful smile as he set to leaving the room, eventually shutting the door behind him. I waited a moment to make sure he was gone before twisting and lifting myself out of bed, standing and stretching my hands above my head. The drugs were really working now; I felt much better. It wasn't normal, not quite, but the pain had mostly subsided. I walked across the room and into the bathroom, my legs and back momentarily stiff from being in bed for so long. In the mirror I caught sight of my reflection, my hair a huge jumbled mess, like a large bird nest nestled atop my head. I almost laughed aloud at myself, despite my embarrassment at the thought that I had been seen looking so ragged. I couldn't remember ever looking this bad; I usually tried to take care in my appearance, even when I didn't have to. This was a train wreck. Even when I'd come here that first night, charred and covered in blood, I'd managed to look better than this.

I turned the handle on the wall, water spurting from the shower head, almost instantly warm. I stripped off my clothes and feigned a bold, determined look at myself in the mirror before stepping in, the water soothing against my aching chest. Funny, I hadn't even checked my wound. In fact, I hadn't even thought about it, nor did I have any interest in knowing what it looked like. I had a feeling looking at what my father was capable of doing to me was going to bring down my confidence and send me straight back to bed, and I didn't want to chance that. I was going to meet this Fury. And, finally, I was going to be a voice for myself.


	10. Book I Ch 10

When Steve returned with my tea, a respectful twenty minutes later, I was showered, dressed, and looking like my old self once again. It must have caught him by surprise when he walked in and saw the shape I was in, his eyes widening a little as if he couldn't believe I looked so healthy. I could hardly believe it myself. While I still had never looked at my wound, I couldn't forget the fact that I'd stabbed in the chest, which would normally have had fatal consequences. Yet, here I was, up and ready to go like nothing happened. I tried not to think too hard about it; I was afraid that if I tried to think of the logistics behind my recovery, I'd start to spiral.

"Are you feeling better?" Steve asked, slowly, like he was still processing. He handed over my tea, giving me a once over, as if he was expecting me to be an illusion.

"Yeah, a lot better, actually," I said, smiling and taking the tea. The cup was warm against my palms, the steam reaching up and tickling my nose.

"That's great to hear. You look better. A lot better." He took a deep breath. "You're sure you're fine?"

"Yes."

"Not feeling any pain?"

"Nope."

"Nothing at all strange?" I thought about this for a moment, then shrugged my shoulders. There did seem to be some odd feeling lingering in my chest, but I couldn't decide if it was bad or not. It was simply...different. Steve crossed his arms at my response, that look of shock draining from his face as his features settled in a stern look.

"I think you should still rest. You may feel fine, but I'm sure you're not one hundred percent yet," he said.

"Right...it's probably just the drugs, huh? You must have me on some powerful stuff." I took a sip of my tea. His expression shifted again, and I saw his eyebrows raise over the rim of my cup.

"We didn't give you any drugs," he said. "Bruce said he didn't know how you'd react, and he didn't want to risk it. Whatever euphoria and pain relief you're feeling...you're doing it yourself."

"No drugs?" I took another sip, my mind turning. Had I somehow gained intense healing abilities? It didn't really seem to fit in with the rest of what I'd discovered yet, but I couldn't push the idea away. If that was the case, maybe I really was something extraordinary. Or maybe not. Maybe this was an adrenaline rush, and as soon as I marched my way downstairs, determined to sell myself to this Fury guy, I would just collapse in a heap. After collapsing a ridiculous amount of times already, that would be completely embarrassing. I'd had a weak composition before, while I was living with my father, and maybe these new abilities were too much for my weakened body to take. But wouldn't I be able to tell? Or was the reaction going to be sudden? Or—

I took a deep breath. I was spiraling.

Steve cleared his throat. His eyes hadn't left my face, watching with concern. I glanced up at him, inhaling some of the steam from my tea. The warm sensation seemed to ease my nerves for a moment.

"I want to meet Fury," I said, to which he immediately shook his head.

"No. Not now. You don't have to. We'll get everything settled and the—where are you going?" As he talked I had slowly made my way more towards the door, setting my tea on the dresser. I didn't answer him, opening the door and exiting the room. It took him only seconds to catch up to me, his hand suddenly on my arm, his grip tight. It was probably tighter than he intended. I struggled a little, clearly making no progress.

"Let go."

"No. You don't understand the situation. You can't see him right now, okay? Just let us handle it," he said, sternly. I waited a moment, struggling again, his grip tightening to the point of being uncomfortable. It wasn't painful, not necessarily, but I realized that if it were he would let me go. A small twist of guilt churned my stomach, and then I yelled.

"Ouch!"

I flinched away from his grip as best I could, trying to sell it. As I suspected, Steve dropped his hand, stepping back.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" he sputtered, giving me enough time to take off running down the hall and away from him. "Wh—hey!" he yelled, running after me. He must have forgotten that I was faster, and he trailed behind me as I hit the stairs and continued downward. In a few seconds I was at the door to the main room, skidding to a stop and taking a moment to fluff my hair and take a deep, calming breath in. I could hear talking from the inside, everyone's voices somewhat on edge. I heard Tony crack a joke, but no laughter followed. Heavy steps behind me indicated that Steve was on his way, and I quickly moved into the room. I was met by four faces: Tony, Thor, Bruce, a woman with red hair, and a dark man with a very intimidating eye patch across his left eye. I instinctively bowed my head. Steve slid into the room beside me, looking slightly out of breath and a little flustered at the thought that he was too late to stop me.

"Sorry for barging in, sir," I started, lifting my head to face the man with the eye patch, assuming he was Fury. He stared at me for a moment, raising an eyebrow, then crossed his arm and rolled his visible eye over to Tony, who ran a hand nervously through his hair.

"'We don't have her,' he says. Mmmhm," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. That guilt in my stomach twisted again. I didn't realize Tony was playing it off as if he didn't even have me. I hoped I hadn't just gotten him in trouble with something that was bigger than the both of us. But why did I even matter that much? Who had told this Fury that I was even here, let alone that I had gained some sort of abilities that were of interest to him? I wondered how much he knew about me already, and that made me uncomfortable.

"I may have been stretching the truth a bit," Tony said under his breath, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek and giving me a look. I glanced at him for a moment before locking my eyes on Fury.

"I understand you've come to see me," I said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"A lot, actually. But we'll start somewhere solid. Are you aware that your renewed presence is attracting an unfriendly outside attention?" he asked, turning his good eye to me. My smile faltered, my mouth dropping open a little. This wasn't a question I could even begin to answer, and was definitely not what I expected.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, and Steve, still beside me, cleared his throat.

"Fury, she doesn't remember anything. She's got amnesia. She doesn't know what you're talking about," he said, somewhat quickly.

"She doesn't have to remember anything specific. I just wanted to know if any of you made it clear to her the information I relayed to you yesterday."

"She's been asleep," Bruce interjected. Fury gave him a dismissive glance.

"Excuse me?" I asked, stepping a little closer to Fury. "What should I remember? Is there something big I should know? What do you mean 'renewed presence'?" My heart thumped wildly in my chest, my head burning suddenly with agitated energy. The redheaded woman next to Fury stepped forward, standing defensively.

"Back up and take a deep breath, Ms. Green," she said calmly under her breath, holding her hand out for me to step back. I took a shaky breath and nodded my head, backing myself up a few steps. I still didn't know enough about these abilities to know how to handle them when I was agitated; I didn't want to hurt anyone. As I stepped away she pulled a file out from under her arm, holding it out for Steve to take. He did.

"There's always been things I couldn't remember, even before the accident. I get agitated thinking about it. And knowing that there are people out there who may know what's missing, I—" I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, collecting myself. "I apologize."

"How long exactly have you been without memories?" Fury asked, seemingly unfazed by my apparently threatening presence before.

"For as long as I can remember. Entire chunks of my life are just gone. I know they're there, somewhere in my head, swimming around somewhere. I just can't find them." I gave him a somewhat pleading look. "If you know something about my past, I—" I was cut off by a deafening shriek, my mouth still hanging open from my interrupted words. I clapped my hands over my ears, my legs suddenly feeling weak, my body trembling. For a moment, I thought I was the only one who could hear it, everyone else in the room watching me with worry as my body fell, my knees hitting the floor. Then, suddenly, they were covering their ears as well, looks of terror on their faces. Discomfort and pain radiated off of their energies, little balls of sporadic light flicking around the room, like a visual representation of anxiety. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, nausea rolling over me, my head exploding with pain, and then...it was over. Just as suddenly as it had started, the sound was gone.

I took a few gasps of air, sweat running down my neck, and slowly lifted my hands from my ears to look around at everyone. They all seemed to be just as flustered and confused as I was. A hand clapped down on my shoulder and another took my arm, helping me up off the floor. Without looking I knew it was Steve, but I couldn't form the words 'thank you' at the moment. Instead, my thoughts were on something completely different: from where I was standing I had a good view of one of the large windows lining Stark Tower, and from this window I saw something horrifying. Just beyond the glass was what looked to be a giant, scale shaped ship, the white metal glistening as the sun hit its edges. The redheaded woman standing next to Fury noticed it too, cocking her head to the side ever so slightly, her short hair bobbing with the movement.

"What on Earth is that?" she asked, slowly heading towards the window. I hesitated a moment, still shaken, before following after her, looking up at the ship as soon as I got close enough to the glass.

"What did I say about outside attention?" Fury muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he straightened out. His eyes fell on me. For some reason 'outside attention' made my far more nauseous than what he'd said about my 'renewed presence.' I moved forward towards the window, the white metal of the strange ship captivating me. It didn't seem to reflect light normally, shining from almost every direction like a kaleidoscope of color. It hovered in one place, static, though there didn't seem to be any visual sign of engines or turbines keeping it afloat. This...had to be alien technology. But what kind?

"Is it Chitauri?" I heard Steve ask from behind us, clearly on the same thought process. My eyes were still glued to the metal. I had never seen something so daunting and beautiful at the same time.

"Doesn't look like it," the woman answered, turning away from the window and stepping back towards the group. I stayed put, pressing my hand against the glass.

"Should we schedule an evacuation? Get people out?" Steve asked.

"No. We'll wait. See what this thing really is," Fury answered, his voice low. "Although, I don't have a good feeling about this." He audibly sighed. "One stays dormant for years, doesn't attract anything. Then this one shows up and is active for a few days, and suddenly we have this nonsense to deal with."

It took me a moment to realize the 'one' he was speaking of was me, but I could hardly focus enough to wrap my brain around what I was looking at, let alone whatever he was on about.

"Then why not take care of it now? Take precautions? We need to protect people," Steve argued back, his voice irritated. I remembered him telling me earlier that he wasn't the fondest of Fury, and I had a feeling they didn't agree on things too often. The tension in the room was rising. With my newly acquired 'sight' I could see it looming behind me, building, mixed up with all the other agitated emotions in the room.

"The people will be fine. If it does something threatening, we'll send people out there. But until then, no one touches it," Fury said.

"We don't want to make it seem like we're attacking," Natasha added.

"But—" Steve fell silent. Finally I was able to tear my eyes away from the ship and I looked back at the group, everyone stiff and watching each other, scrutinizing each other. Uncomfortable, I scratched the back of my neck with my free hand, finding the small hairs to be raising against my fingers. There was a spike in agitation around the room as I quickly turned around again, in time to see what looked to be a shard of the brilliant white ship hurling towards the glass. I didn't have time to react, my body frozen, the shard colliding with the window. Steve, in a flash, was grabbing me and pulling me down, shield coming up over our heads as glass sprayed around us like rain. Steve's massive frame crashed against mine, my ribs cracking under the pressure. A small, surprised sound of pain escape my lips. I couldn't move. The pain of my stab wound was suddenly amplified as my ribs shifted unnaturally under the Captain's crushing weight, and all I could do was wait for the sound of the glass rain to stop. Eventually, it did. A strange silence hung around the room as everyone stilled, bearing themselves for another attack. After a moment, though, Steve lifted himself away from me and pulled me up.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes darting around my face. I wrapped my arm around my chest, taking a painful breath in. He took note of my arm, guilt lining his features. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry. You saved my life," I sputtered. "A few cracked ribs is nothing." I hadn't realized my lips were shaking until I tried to speak. My teeth chattered.

"Dr. Banner?" Steve called.

"On it." Bruce made his way over, gently grabbing my shoulders and steering me towards the couch. I caught sight of the metal shard that had crashed through the window as I made my way to the sofa, the white material gleaming with the light of the room. Just like the larger ship, it seemed to emit it's own light, both from it's surface and within. It held a ball of energy within it, much like that kind I'd been noticing within people. It shifted and spiked, albeit gently, my attention completely drawn to it. The metal shell surrounding it was etched with intricate marks, winding around the shape like twisted rivers. It struck me with its beauty.

"Natasha, get some agents down here to analyze this," Fury spoke. The woman made her leave, her phone pressed to her ear as she exited the room. Tony was standing a fair distance from the shard, his hand curled over his chin in a thinking position. Thor, surprisingly, was keeping his distance. I could only focus on them for so long, though, before I was drawn back to the shard itself.

"Let me know when it hurts," Bruce said. I'd almost been unaware of his probing, his gentle hands moving around my ribs as he looked for the new damage. "Your upper body can't seem to catch a break, hm?"

"Mm…" I mumbled.

"I will go investigate," Thor piped up, grabbing hold of his hammer, which had been placed on the coffee table, and swinging it violently."

"Don't cause any trouble, Point Break," Tony warned. Just like that, Thor was soaring out the hole in the glass, kicking up a few of the shattered pieces and scattering them farther into the room. A few clanked against the metal shard, making oddly harmonious sounds.

"Stark, Rogers, with me. We have some things to discuss," Fury said sternly, nodding his head towards the door. Both men followed him out, leaving Bruce and I alone. I took a deep breath, focusing my eyes on where they exited, trying to keep my attention from the shard. It was trying to draw me to it. That made me uncomfortable.

"Nothing?" Bruce asked, his voice quiet.

"I think I'm okay," I responded, keeping my gaze straight. "Must have heard something else crack and assumed it was my ribs."

"Or, you just healed between then and now. That's a possibility, hm?" He stood up, rubbing one hand over the other.

"They're talking about me, aren't they?" I asked, unable to focus on any other conversational topic at the moment. Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"A giant metal piece belonging to an alien ship just crashed into the room, and you think they're talking about you?" he asked, almost comically. I shifted my eyes and looked at him, my expression not changing. He stared at me for a minute and then sighed.

"...they could be talking about you. Maybe. But we don't know, so don't worry about it, alright?"

"Why me? What's so special about me? Except for the fact that I've just developed freak powers that I don't know how to control..." I put my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes. It was a good thing I'd never really been into eye makeup—I'd have looked like a raccoon by now if I had.

"I think you're a lot more special than you realize, Annabelle." He grabbed my head gently, shaking it around a little. "Don't worry about them. Just take it easy. You're so high strung."

"Yes, I am," I sighed, dropping my hands into my lap. "I can't help it."

"Try." He sat down in the chair nearby, lacing his hands together. I slowly fell back to lay against the couch, closing my eyes. The presence of the shard was still overpowering. I had the nagging feeling that we shouldn't have been in the same room as it. Had Fury left Bruce her on purpose, in case anything happened with it? And if that was the case, why had he also left me? Tucking my legs up onto the couch, as if this was enough to distance myself from the alien shard, I tried to relax. Over-thinking things wasn't best right now. I just had to keep my eyes closed and breathe, ready for anything, but ready to take it on calmly and efficiently. If only I never had to open my eyes...

But, I did have to open my eyes. And, when I did, it was because the nausea came back. It was there suddenly, like some horrible unwanted guest in my gut. My eyelids snapped open as my vision spun, and I grabbed the arm of the couch to steady myself, even though I was seated firmly.

"Annabelle, are you alright? What's happening?" Bruce asked, crouching down by me. I tried to focus on his face, but my eyes wouldn't settle.

"Dizzy," I sputtered out, letting my eyes wander to the shard of metal in the room, its designs twirling and melding together as my head spun on.

"Do you need a glass of water?" he asked, slowly, and I shook my head. "Maybe you should sit back down." I blinked once and turned my head to look back at him. I hadn't even realized I had moved to stand, yet here I was, suddenly several feet away from the couch. I opened my mouth but promptly shut it, realizing I had nothing to say for myself. Certainly I wasn't about to admit that I was so out of it. I slowly made my way back to the couch and sat down, covering my face with my hands, the light of the room peeking through my fingers and into my eyes.

"I don't belong here," I said into my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. "I'm used to being alone, out of the spotlight, away from all of...this. My father was right. I need to go back."

"Is that how you really feel? Or are you just too scared to be out of your comfort zone?"

"I don't have a comfort zone." I dropped my hands into my lap, keeping my eyes shut, my nausea passing. "The only bit of comfort I've ever experienced in my life was when I was with my mother. Away from my father. Away from the science. Not thinking about anything but her and me." I swallowed, a lump swelling in my throat. "But she's been gone for years, and I have nothing."

"You only have nothing when you push yourself away from people like us, who are trying to help. Let us help."

"You can't help..!" My corneas burned suddenly as I looked over at him, frustrated. He furrowed his brow. We sat in silence.

Fury and the others returned after what seemed like an eternity, Fury sidestepping the giant metal shard in the room as if it were a misplaced toy. He stole a glance at it before turning his eyes to us.

"Anything suspicious happen while we were away?" he asked. Bruce and I shook our heads.

"It hasn't moved an inch," Bruce stood.

"It feels strange," I said, staring over at it once again. I could feel everyone's eyes on me and immediately regretted speaking, that lump again forming in my throat. Father always said to keep quiet.

"What do you mean?" someone asked, but I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the metal.

"I couldn't explain if I tried," I admitted. I lowered my head in submission, shutting my lips tight. This was something I knew nothing about. It was best to leave it to people who dealt with this on a daily basis. My mind wandered to Thor, wondering what was taking him so long. Had he discovered something?

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

I looked up at the speaker, Steve, and shook my head.

"Why would I? I hardly left my house. This sort of alien nonsense is something I am completely unfamiliar with," I said. He nodded his head once, casting his glance away.

"…touch it," Fury said. I hardly realized he was speaking to me until Bruce nudged me and nodded in his direction.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Fury…" Natasha spoke up beside him, giving him a skeptical look.

"Go ahead. Do it. I want to see what happens," he said, firmer.

"Sir, I don't think—"

"Do you want to be helpful, or do you want to be dead weight while the rest of us try to figure this out?" His tone struck something in me, a chill running up my spine. I swallowed and nodded my head once, standing once more and heading towards the metal object. I hesitantly placed my hand along a smooth section, finding it surprisingly warm to the touch. It seemed like something was supposed to happen as I made contact with it, some big display, some indication that Fury was onto something, but nothing happened. I just stood there, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

"Is something supposed to happen?" Steve asked, my embarrassment spiking. This was just pathetic. I couldn't even pull my hand away, even though it was obvious nothing was going to happen. _Just pull your hand away and shake it off, Annabelle. That's all you have to do._

"Hey, she powered down my entire tower, you'd think she'd be able to do something with this," Tony added. _Pull your hand away. Stop making a fool of yourself._

"Maybe she can't work with something that isn't electrical?" They were talking about me like I wasn't even in the room. _Pull your hand away, now._ _This is more than you want to deal with._ The voice almost didn't seem like my own, coming from some remote part of my brain that I couldn't tap into.

"Thor's hammer isn't electrical."

"What happened with Thor's hammer?" _Just pull your hand awa_ _y_ _—_

Suddenly the metal shifted underneath my fingertips, pushing inward like dough. The effect was too fast for me to react, and suddenly the metal hardened and shot forward, gripping my forearm like sharp claws. A sound of shock, semi resembling a squeal, left my lips as everyone turned towards me, the tension and surprise lingering in the room suddenly skyrocketing. Everyone's fear poured into me, suffocating. Steve wrapped his arms around the body of the metal. In a rush of light and another burst of glass, Thor had landed back in the room and grabbed onto me, shoving back. I yelled out in pain. Maybe the ribs had been broken after all. I should have acted, moved more to help free myself, but the fear in the room was immobilizing. All I could do was stand limply and be pulled around like a ragdoll, the metal tightening around my skin as if trying to suck me in.

I could only watch as the metal melded and changed, opening up like an egg as a creature from within emerged. It was smaller than the average human, more like a large dog, but what it lacked in size it gained in intimidation. Its skin was the same sheer white metal of the ship hovering outside, swirls of off colored lines spiraling around its limbs. Its head was large and rounded, but it seemed to have no visible eyes. Instead, it bared a set of horrifyingly large teeth that lined every inch of its gigantic mouth, which stretched nearly around its entire head. The metal clamped to my arm appeared to be its actual claws, the white tips of it now stained with the deep red of my blood. I hadn't even realized it had broken skin. Instead, I was so fixated on those off-color lines, the pattern mesmerizing. I could hear people yelling, struggling, around me, but all of the voices seemed so distant. I could barely even feel the fear that had been so strong not moments earlier. All I could focus on were those lines. The erratic thumping of my heart slowed.

 _The patterns bent and slithered along the creature as it opened its mouth, that same nauseating sound from earlier emerging from the pits of its throat. Even though it lacked eyes, I felt like it was looking into my soul. The lines on its body began to bleed a blinding bright blue, the new color washing over the previous like a glossy coat of paint. I felt the pressure on my arm being released as the creature crept backwards at its own pace, as if Steve and Thor weren't pulling and pushing it from all directions in an attempt to get rid of it. It seemed like everyone was shouting, though it was muffled, quiet, my ears ringing from the creature's shriek. The shell from which it emerged bent and connected to the creature's back, locking into place in giant metallic wings. A surge of electricity coursed through the room, but for the first time in this place I wasn't the one who was causing it. The creature stretched its newly attached wings and headed for the window from which it crashed. As it released me I fell back, the force of Thor's pulling finally catching up to me. I hit the ground hard. I didn't realize the long spiny tail of the creature until it whacked me across the face as it leaped out the window, breaking another pane as it did. The whip of that metal tail against my face stunned me. Stars danced across my vision, and then the creature was gone._


	11. Book I Ch 11

Eventually, things started to focus again. I blinked away the fog in my eyes and surveyed my surroundings, finding myself laid out across the counter in Tony's kitchen. The stone was cold against the bare skin of my arms. Around the kitchen, surrounding me, was everyone else. Even though this kitchen was huge, it seemed so much smaller with so many people crammed into it.

"You're awake? Aware?" Natasha said. I was suddenly aware of her standing just beside me, her flash of red hair catching my attention as it fell around her face. She was peering down at me. I stared at her, my brain spinning. There was something missing...something I couldn't put my finger on.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"After that thing left, we got a visit from a few more. As if this wasn't a party enough. We've been hiding out in here for a while. Clint's trying to fly over her to get us out."

"Clint," I repeated to myself. I still didn't feel right, almost like I was stuck between being asleep and awake.

"Speaking of Clint, he's here," someone from across the room said. I rolled my head to the side to get a view of the window, where a jet was nearing. My vision blurred around the edges as the others rushed around me and towards the window. I could hear glass shatter, some fumbled footsteps, the shrill blast of Tony's thrusters, and a strange ongoing growling from the other side of the door. I felt so overwhelmed. I could feel my body lift, my head bobbing to the side a bit and my hair falling over my shoulders. It took me few seconds to conclude that someone had picked me up and was carrying me through the now broken window. I couldn't focus enough on my surroundings to figure out how we got there, but we were inside of a metal room now. Wind whipped around me. I squeezed my eyes shut and then blinked rapidly, trying to clear that fog which had gathered across my vision. I could hear people talking, yelling, that wind so loud in my ears. Then, it hit me.

The moment I realized we were inside of the jet my vision was plagued by a different kind of problem, dark figures flicking their slim fingers towards me, nausea hitting me hard. I could feel panic overwhelm me, my breathing becoming rapid as I struggled to get away from my holder. People were still saying things, but I couldn't hear them. The only thing I could hear was that damn wind. My mind spun as the figures around the plane closed in on me, their fingers cold against my skin. They flickered and skipped as they got closer and closer.

I knew they weren't real. In the back of my mind I knew they weren't there, weren't on this plane, and I was safe. But that panic only grew within me, like a dark poison bleeding through my core. Memories flashed across my eyes, quick, unrecognizable, my head splitting with pain. I could feel the hard metal ground beneath my feet but I didn't feel like I was there. I was floating somewhere else entirely, between a memory and my current reality. Confusion and fear overcame me, and all I could do was sit and wonder when the flashes of terror were going to stop running through my head.

I felt a force wrap around me, strong and warm, squeezing some of the panic away. My face was pressed up against firm fabric, the memories dissipating all at once. It was quiet, the slight hum of the plane's engine rumbling under the soles of my shoes. I inhaled through my nose slowly, my heart still beating rapidly against my acheing ribs. The fabric I was up against was a nice royal blue color, a calming blue, though I still couldn't peg the person wearing it. It took me a few moments before I was able to lift my eyes, eventually meeting Steve's. I should have been able to figure out from the beginning that Steve was the one holding me, judging by the strong arms and tall frame, but I hadn't let any of that register.

"They're gone," I said quietly.

"Who's gone?" he asked. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, trying to clear my mind. I'd never experienced hallucinations like that before. Why did they even happen?

"Not who. What." I inhaled. "My abilities. They're gone. They're not here."

I hadn't realized it at first, not able to peg what was missing, but now it was obvious to me. Those brilliant lights, the mists of energy that I could feel and trace, were gone. It left me feeling disoriented, lost.

"How is that possible? How can you tell?" Steve asked.

"Maybe you're just freaked out," a female, most likely Natasha, said from behind me.

"No, they're definitely gone. I can't feel anyone. I can't tell who anyone is." I stared back at that blue fabric, trying to focus.

"You can see, can't you?" a male voice asked, "and you can hear? You should be able to distinguish who everyone is that way, right?" I nodded my head slowly, still processing.

"That's what normal people do, isn't it?" I asked, mumbling somewhat under my breath. Normal people. Humans. Humans identified each other by examining features and remembering which features belonged to whom. Humans had to turn around to see who was standing behind them, or at least be able to identify someone talking judging by their voice. But that's not how I did it. I just knew who people were. I sensed them. I felt their individual presences. I could tell who was in a room two doors down from me with my eyes closed. But...it didn't register to me that I was different. Now, though, it was painfully obvious. I couldn't feel anyone on the jet with me. No one. It was...lonely.

"Maybe you should sit down," Steve said, gently taking me by the shoulders and leading me to a bench on the plane, sitting me down. I took a moment to scan around the room, looking at where everyone was standing so I could remember it later. That is, unless they moved. What a horrible thing, not to know where everyone is at all times…

"I'm so sorry if I made a spectacle," I started, slowly, "I don't know what happened. As soon as I realized we were on a plane I just...I lost it. It triggered something."

"Are you afraid of planes?" I turned my head to see that it was Tony talking, his back up against the metal wall of the plane.

"I haven't exactly been on a lot of them. So, no, I don't think so. But"—I looked down at my hands, running my thumbs over each other— "my father always told me that my mother died on a plane. Maybe it's a psychological thing."

"That's entirely possible." Bruce said, cleaning his glasses with his shirt. I nodded a little, more to myself, and laid my head back against the cool metal. The plane hummed against the back of my head.

"Where are we going?" I asked after a few moments.

"Someplace safe where we can do more research on these things." Tony answered.

"Shouldn't you stay back and fight?"

"Normally we would. But this particular situation is tricky." He leaned away from the wall, keeping his arms crossed. "That one creature that attacked you started acting strange soon after you blacked out, twitching around. And then it turned our lights out, messed with my systems. Just like you did." He nodded at me, then dropped his hands to his sides. "If you think you've lost your abilities, I think I know where they went. And if my speculation is correct, there's no way we can risk fighting them."

"Yeah, imagine a Hulk version of one of those things. Yeee," a male voice from the front of the jet called. I glanced over, trying to get a good look at him. Unfortunately from my position all I could make out was a fluff of messy, dirty blonde hair, the rest of him hidden by the pilot chair.

"So you think these things have the power to take abilities away from gifted individuals?" I wasn't sure how to word it, but that seemed polite enough.

"I'm saying I don't want to find out. We need to get to this place as quick as possible and send an alert to the other 'gifteds' out there. Tell them not to fight." Tony walked to the front of the plane, looking down at the controls.

"You don't have abilities. Why didn't you stay?" I asked. He shot me a bit of a look, something between guilt and irritation.

"I left a few androids I've been working on to fight them off and relay any information. If that thing took your abilities, I would be toast pretty quick. Besides, we need to figure this all out as a team," he explained.

"How many are there?"

"We don't know."

"From what we saw," added Natasha, "a lot."

"They were flying off that ship like crazy," the man from the front spoke. "I had to keep dodging them to keep them from damaging the quinjet."

"Then we're leaving all those people in the city to deal with it? That's the direction we're taking?" I asked, sitting up a bit, looking around at everyone. It was so hard to place what they were feeling by their faces alone. They were good at hiding their emotions on a purely physical level.

"If they're stealing abilities, they probably won't go after civilians," Tony muttered. He didn't seem so convinced.

"We've called SHIELD in as well," Fury spoke up. "They will be taking care of what they can and bring back information on what we're dealing with. And hopefully they'll kill a lot of those freakish dogs while they're at it."

I pulled my knees to my chest. This seemed like running away to me. The superheroes I'd idolized for so long, those pages and pages of comics I'd read, would have never abandoned anything like this. Then again, this was real life. This was a team, and one that was trying to fight impossible situation after impossible situation in the best way possible. They had to be smart. They couldn't just rush into battle like the comics said, taking on anything and everything victoriously. These were people. We were all just people at our cores.

 _Trying to get used to this new, 'lonely' feeling that came with the absence of my abilities was getting more and more difficult by the second. It shouldn't have felt so foreign to me. I had been perfectly normal until that explosion; I should have been used to this. I rested my forehead on my knees and tried to make sense of what was happening, my mind in knots. It felt like I couldn't think fast enough, like my thoughts were moving agonizingly slow. Had the new abilities really affected me so much in such a short time, and now that they were gone I felt like I'd lost something huge? What was going to happen to me if I couldn't recuperate and function without them? I felt a hand on my shoulder and let my eyes close, taking a calming breath. The jet sped off through the air, towards our faraway destination, and I didn't move an inch the entire ride._


	12. Book I Ch 12

Anthony Stark was no modest man. Of course, everyone knew this. Even I knew it, with the limited knowledge I'd acquired from newspaper articles and snippets of news. He liked things to be extravagant, over the top, and awe inspiring. So, I didn't expect anything else when it came to one of his secret bunkers. He tried to explain it in detail while we were all trapped on the jet, boasting about how many things he had installed there.

"It'll be just like the tower in terms of technology. I mean, did you really think I'd go anywhere without Jarvis? And don't worry about it being some run down dump. It's not, I can assure you that." He went on and on. Between his rambling, the hum of the plane, and my steadily growing headache, I wanted nothing more than to be back on the ground. Especially if I started to get hallucinations again, or whatever they were. They were terrifying, and I didn't want to trigger them by staying on this jet too long.

I tried to make sense of them as I sat there, but I couldn't wrap my mind around it, let alone remember the horrifying incident clearly. Just like many of my memories, it was already fading. But the feeling that hung around me, that dreaded, crushing feeling, was still very present. My heart felt heavy in my chest. Could it have been caused by anxiety? Had I so closely associated my mother's death with planes that I became overcome with strange, hallucinatory reactions? Being told of my mother's death was one of the clearest things I could recall from my past. My father, teary eyed and weak, in a state I'd never seen him in, had told me that she succumbed to her illness while on a flight to visit her family, and that because she'd been on a flight, they hadn't had the means to revive her. I remember knowing he was angry, angry at me, like somehow I had caused it to happen. Maybe the clarity of this memory was what made the plane anxiety so bad. That, and it had definitely been a nightmarish week so far. It was all taking its toll.

"How long until we get there?" I asked, keeping my eyelids shut tight to block out the light streaming through the glass at the front of the jet.

"Almost to the halfway point, where we'll switch jets," the man driving the jet answered. I'd discovered that this man was indeed Clint, who was a high ranking agent of SHIELD. He was sarcastic, cracked a lot of jokes, and apparently had a killer aim. At least, that's what Natasha had said. People had tried to make conversation with me as we flew, but most of it I tuned out. Not intentionally, necessarily; I tried to nod and be polite. I was just far too exhausted, mentally and physically, to engage too much.

"We're switching jets?" I asked, my stomach lurching at the thought. If the next jet was any smaller than this one, or any less comfortable, I didn't know if I could handle it.

"This one had low fuel in the first place. It can't get us all the way there. Besides, we don't know if those things had any sort of tracking device that they pegged us with. It's just better to switch before we get to our final destination," Natasha explained. I tried to stifle my sigh and nodded my head once in understanding, warily opening my eyes. Maybe at our next stop I could get a glass of water, and something to eat. Oddly enough, I was starving. And it was rare that I ever really felt starving. I'd never been one to eat very much. Although I'd gone quite a long time without eating, up until this point it hadn't fazed me. It was incredible I was still standing, now that I thought about it.

"Maybe you should get up and walk around. Stretch a little," Steve suggested, but I shook my head. I still hadn't moved from my position, holding my legs securely to my chest, which was starting to ache. Probably from the curled up position I'd let myself be in for a good few hours. Or, you know, the stab wound that surely still hadn't healed. Or the potential broken ribs from when Steve had fallen on me. Or any other ridiculous injury I might have sustained in the past few days.

"I'm okay. I'll move when we land," I said. I'd think about my wounds later. For now, this position was comforting.

Steve gave me a wary look but nodded his head, looking towards the front of the plane so that the sun hit his face directly, highlighting the curve of his jaw, his cheeks, his nose...I tried not to stare, but my mind was too tired to think logically and I did it anyway. He didn't seem to notice, thank goodness, but someone else did. Tony nudged my shoulder roughly, giving me a big grin when I turned my head to face him. A flush of embarrassment came over me. What was wrong with me? I knew not to stare. Staring was rude. But there was something about his face…

I squeezed my eyes shut again, mentally beating myself up. Stop it, Annabelle. Now is not the time. _Then again, you have gone through a lot and deserve to look at something so pretty, right?_ Ugh. I sucked in a deep breath, my aching chest twisting with discomfort. I reached a hand up and set it against my shirt, trying to squish it between my knees and breasts so that I could feel my heartbeat. Bruce did say that my heart beat remarkably fast. Now that I was lacking abilities, was it still beating that way? That would be a logical reason why my chest would be so sore. I waited and held my hand against the fabric of my shirt firmly. One, two, three, four, five, six...after counting to ten seconds I didn't feel a single beat. I held my breath, trying not to panic, my body stiff. I counted out a few more seconds, slowly, carefully, but still felt nothing. If my heart was beating, it wasn't beating strong enough for me to feel it. I slowly pulled my hand back out and wrapped my arm back around my knees, trying to keep myself calm. I wasn't going to tell anybody. No one needed to know. They had so much to worry about, and I was the least of their problems. Maybe I was just crazy, and the beat really was there. I went with that, hoping to keep my mind at ease. _Everything is fine._ I was still breathing, so clearly I wasn't under any sort of cardiac arrest. It was only my mind playing tricks on me. My mind was always playing tricks.

The jet landed about twenty minutes later, touching down on a runway that seemed to stretch out from the middle of nowhere. A little farther off I could see buildings, the SHIELD logo proudly branded on the sides. To my surprise, there was a dusting of snow on the ground. I hoisted myself up, stumbling a little as the blood flowed through my dead legs again. I grabbed onto Bruce, the nearest person, and waited until my body was fully functional before heading to the exit of the plane. After being on the jet for so long, I was ready to get off. Thinking about the cool snow on my skin, I almost ravenously pulled open the metal door and stepped down onto the ground, a chilled wind suddenly whipping up around me. Snow crystals settled against my bare legs. It both stung and was satisfying, enough to sort of jolt me out of the strange, half-awake sensation that had hung over me since that thing attacked. The snow was already melting against the heat of my leg, trickling down my bare skin.

"First time in the snow?" Steve asked, hopping down beside me. I realized it must have seemed that way, given my desperate exit from the plane, and I shook my head.

"I just wanted to be out," I admitted. He nodded in response.

"The cold feels good, doesn't it? Thought it's not really falling too hard for the time being." He squinted up at the sky, even though the sun was hidden by the thick clouds.

"It's beautiful," I said, rubbing at my eye as a flake fell against my cornea. Much like my experience with rain, I hadn't exactly been allowed to go out and play in the snow when I was younger. Everything always looked so barren with that white blanket folding over the hills around our house, the occasional deer leaving indents and impurities in the powder. There was never any sign that anyone lived out there, I remembered thinking. No one came around our area to visit when it was so cold. Winter had always been so lonely. But this seemed different.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Steve remarked, looked around.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Uh, that's classified, sorry."

It took me a moment to realize the voice belonged to Clint. I turned and looked at him, seeing his face straight on for the first time. He was handsome, a lazy smirk hanging on his lips, his eyes bright.

"That's hardly fair," I said.

"SHIELD is never fair. Get used to it." He looked me over. "...who are you, anyway? Where'd they pick you up?"

"Annabelle Green. I, uh, broke into Tony's tower. Kind of. It was an accident." I scratched the back of my neck, the area still heavily populated by goosebumps. Clint took a moment, staring at my face.

"So you're the one," he said.

"The one?"

"Yeah. Causing all this trouble."

"I didn't call those alien things if that's what you're on about. I promise I have nothing to do with that."

Between this and Fury's earlier accusation that it was my 'presence' that was causing issues, I was starting to doubt my own involvement. Maybe the explosion had attracted these creatures? A twist in my stomach formed. Maybe that device I'd detonated had been some crazy attempt by my father to communicate with outside life, and that had caused this entire spiral. If that was the case, and I was guilty, I didn't know what I would do with myself.

"Regardless, breaking into Stark's tower is awesome. I love that," Clint continued, not aware of my internal struggle.

"Yeah? You think?" I feigned a smile, trying not to let my guilt show.

"Barton, go ask Nat more about it. She'll give you a file to read," Steve said, nodding at Clint.

"Got it," he responded. "I've been a little too busy. Been skimming over those files."

"That sounds safe."

"You know it."

"Let's get you inside before you freeze over, alright?" Steve addressed this to me as he took my arm, his palm warm, and led me towards the SHIELD building. My shoes, not equipped for the snow, were slipping and sliding across the icy ground beneath us. He pulled me through the front doors, where an amazing wave of heat hit me instantly, and dropped my arm as soon as we got far enough inside.

"I'll get an agent to look around for something you can wear that might be more appropriate for this weather. You stay right here," Steve said, nodding at me once before heading off. I almost audibly sighed. Finally I was in my new clothes, and now I was going to go right back to wearing something that belonged to someone else.

There were several agents in the room, all going about their business, a few of them stealing glances at me as they passed by. I felt vulnerable and exposed, wrapping my arms tightly around myself as I stood there in the middle of the floor. They were watching me, monitoring me, I could tell. I didn't like that. Luckily, I wasn't alone for long.

"So, welcome to the crazy world of SHIELD," Tony said, slapping a hand down on my shoulder. I started a little, having not seen him coming. The look on his face made me think he had every intention of scaring me.

"...thanks," I mumbled.

"Don't worry. They're not too scary. I think I'd use the word...curious."

"Curious?"

"Yup. Can't keep their noses out of anyone's business."

"Sounds like someone else I know," I said, glancing at him. He opened his mouth to protest but then shut it, turning and walking off in a different direction. I couldn't read him, but his dramatically slumped shoulders told me he was playing around. Maybe. Mr. Playboy billionaire was nothing but a sensitive little boy that didn't take anything seriously. I could work with that. Scurrying after him, not wanting to be left alone in this place, I started my journey around the base.

A few others joined up as we walked, looking for things that we needed before setting off again. I hadn't seen Clint since we landed, but Natasha had stayed pretty close by me the entire time, apparently, watching me. She'd even been observing when I'd thought I was alone earlier, she'd informed me. I didn't know whether to be flattered or unsettled.

"Where did Fury go?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable that no one was speaking as we made our way through the halls. Though bustling with people, everything seemed too quiet. Footsteps clanked against the metal floor as people passed, eyes on us, eyes on _me_.

"He took off. He has some other business," Natasha explained, close at my side. We were almost touching elbows. I was still following Tony, who was making his way around while munching on a bag of chips he had found along the way. I was pretty sure the chips were part of someone's lunch, but I doubt that even fazed Tony. If he wanted something, he'd have it.

"Lucky break," I said. She made a noise in agreement. He was off doing whatever while we were stuck going to this base. Not that it was going to be uncomfortable; Tony had made that very clear.

"So where are you from?"

Natasha picked looked at me as she spoke, peering at me through that red hair. I had to wonder if it was natural or not. I suppose she wouldn't tell me if I asked.

"I guess the correct answer is Germany. I was born there. But I've lived in Japan for most of my life."

"Your accent is cute," she said with a smirk. I felt my face flush.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "Most people say that it's odd. Some people used to immediately tell me to shut up."

"That's rude."

"Tell me about it."

"I said it was quirky," Tony commented ahead of us. Natasha and I exchanged a look. After a moment of realizing he was being ignored, he turned to look over his shoulder at us.

"Turn around, Stark," Natasha said with a grin, and he obeyed. She shot me a smile. "Have you ever been to America?"

"Apparently I have a nasty case of long term amnesia. I can't remember. I feel like there may have been a convention in America a few years ago that I was allowed to partake in, but I can't be certain."

"Yikes. That doesn't sound fun."

"Yeah, sometimes it's a little annoying."

"Hey, there's some things I wish I didn't remember," Tony said.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you'd want the memories back as soon as you couldn't remember them. It drives me crazy sometimes, knowing there's something there that I can't get to," I said bitterly. He fell silent.

We walked this way until we ran into a group of agents a few turns later, standing around and chatting. Some of them looked young, new, while others were aged. One woman in particular stood out to me immediately, a brunette with dark eyes that met mine the minute we caught their attention.

"Shoot, and here I was hoping we wouldn't run into any of you," Tony said, halfheartedly. I didn't understand what he meant, considering we'd seen plenty of people already. Maybe these agents were on a completely different level. The woman, her dark eyes still baring into mine, did seem to have a superior kind of quality.

"Are those my chips? Did you take my chips?" one of the younger male agents asked, but Tony waved him off.

"They're mine now."

"Bu—"

"Annabelle," the woman spoke up, stepping towards our little group of three. I pointed at myself like an idiot. She surveyed me, looking almost concerned.

"I apologize," I said slowly, "but do I know you?"

She hesitated a moment.

"...I need to make a phone call, excuse me," she said, quickly turning. I looked at Natasha, confused, but she shook her head.

"Sorry to bother you, ladies and gents," she said, pulling Tony and I back. "You keep having your little circle chat. We'll be going." She led us back the way we came, not speaking until we were far enough out of ear shot. "Sorry about her."

"Who is she?" I asked, "And how does she know my name?"

"Her name is Kathrine Zindel. She's one of our gifted agents."

"And she always has a stick up her ass," Tony added. Natasha shot him a look.

"Kathrine," I repeated. "I do know her."

"You do?" She asked. I nodded, my mind wandering.

"I don't remember how I know her, though. But...I know that name. And I feel like I recognized her face. Her eyes."

"Funny you should say that," Tony mumbled, and Natasha harshly elbowed him.

"That's more possible than you think. And I suddenly have a lot of questions," she said. I didn't bother asking what she meant. I knew she wasn't going to explain, otherwise she would have elaborated in the first place. I was slowly getting used to being kept in the dark.

"I'll catch up with you guys on the jet. Just don't get into any trouble, okay?" she added.

"No promises," Tony said. She waved him off and disappeared down the next hallway, leaving us alone. I watched as he threw the now empty chip bag away and brushed off his fingers, surveying the area.

"You cold, Green?" he asked me, turning to face me after looking around. I shrugged my shoulders and rubbed my bare legs together a little. The initial heat burst from entering the building was quickly fading.

"I guess," I answered.

"I bet we could get you something here. One of those fancy SHIELD outfits. Maybe something tight and with a zipper..." He mumbled the rest to himself, examining his surroundings again. "I'll be right back. Stay here. Don't move."

He left me behind before I could protest, going down a different hall than Natasha. I slowly fell back against the wall, feeling anxious that I was suddenly alone in a place of people that would probably love to question me and test on me. Then again, since I no longer had the abilities, I probably didn't matter at all to them. I touched my fingertips together rhythmically, praying someone I knew came back for me before too long. What if they forgot about me and all flew off in the jet? I'd hoped I'd made enough of an impact on them that they wouldn't just leave me, but I never could be sure. Maybe their plan was to leave me here all along.

"Annabelle," a familiar voice called from down the hall, catching my attention. I looked up to see the woman before, the one they had called Kathrine, heading towards me. I perked up and leaned away from the wall, dropping my hands to my sides.

"Yes?" I asked, slowly. She approached me and looked me over, then held out a small triangular object that looked to be made out of some shiny metal.

"Take it. And open it when you feel ready," she said. I furrowed my brow, taking the pyramid out of her hand and placing it in the palm of my own. It fit comfortably there, the metal warm from where she had been holding it.

"What is it..?" I asked. "What do you mean 'when I feel ready'?"

"You'll know. Just don't do it now. Or on the jet. Wait until you're in a secure location. Okay?"

I stared at her for a moment and then nodded my head. I felt it was the only thing I could do. Her mesmerizing eyes were captivating me, and I probably nodded one too many times.

"Okay," I said quietly.

"Good. I hope to see you soon."

She patted the side of my arm and walked away, her hair swishing behind her in little waves. All I could do was stare until she disappeared, the metal still warm against my hand.

"...what in the hell?" I murmured quietly in German, thoroughly confused. I held up the metal pyramid and brought it close to my face to examine it. What was I supposed to do with this? Apparently it opened. Was there something inside that would be significant to me?

"There you are."

Bruce's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, my body twitching a little in surprise. I quickly pocketed the metal object, where it awkwardly stuck out in a little point underneath the fabric.

"Here I am, yes," I said. He raised an eyebrow but didn't question me, stopping a few feet before me.

"Natasha says she has some sweats and a hoodie for you to keep you warm, if you want them."

"Oh, yeah, that would be great."

I smiled a little, despite this strange new development with the mysterious Kathrine, following him as he took me down the hall.

"Things are kind of overwhelming here, I know," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "And this is only an eighth of the size of some of the other SHIELD bases."

"That's terrifying," I mumbled.

"It is, isn't it? They try to do good, though. SHIELD. They're not bad people." I nodded a little.

"Natasha is with SHIELD, isn't she? And Clint?"

"That's right."

"They seem nice."

"They are. Once you get to know them."  
He smiled at me and gestured towards a side room. "Uh, this is where Natasha left your stuff. I think it's also a bathroom, so, you can...do whatever you need to do. It's going to be kind of a long ride to where we're going, so, I suggest you...you know…"

"Yeah, yeah," I said quickly, "thank you."

"We'll be leaving soon, I think, so just head out to that main room if you can find it. If not, someone will find you, I'm sure."

"Okay." I stepped backwards into the bathroom.

"See you later, then. Unless you want me to stick around and approve of your new clothes." He said this with a bit of a grin, and I caught myself smiling in spite of everything. I'd almost forgotten that day already. How long had that been?  
He waved a little and scuttled off, his shoulders hunched. From his actions, I guessed he really didn't like being here. Then again, Bruce seemed a little skittish all the time. I suppose if I had a scary green monster living inside of me, I'd be cautious too. Whatever I'd had inside of me was something different. Besides, it no longer mattered. It was gone now, just as quickly as it had come. No more abilities. Back to normal Annabelle. _Normal._

I shut the door.


	13. Book I Ch 13

It wasn't long after I got changed—into those snug sweat pants and a shirt that was a size too big—that everyone gathered together in the first room to depart. Luckily I'd been able to find my way back in time before anyone had to come get me, which I took as a small personal accomplishment. It seemed I could function without the abilities after all. That made me feel at least a little more at ease.

I joined the others quietly, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of my new pants, that tiny pyramid object poking out near the bottom. I'd been sure to transfer it when I'd changed out of my old clothes, feeling that it must have been something important. Though I didn't remember knowing the woman who'd given it to me, I felt like I trusted her.

"Warm now, Green?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I nodded my head and smiled a bit.

"Glad those fit. The pants, at least," Natasha said, joining us.

"It's better than wearing some top that's way too tight for me." I smiled at her. "Thanks."

"It wasn't what I was envisioning, but I guess it'll do," Tony mumbled. Natasha shot him an amused look.

"Not all the girls you hang around can be bimbos. Sorry, Stark."

This only caused him to mumble more.

"I think you look nice, Annabelle," Bruce said, playing around with the un-tucked edge of his blouse. I was sure to smile at him as he glanced up.

"Okay Avengers. Time to head out." Steve walked past us in full uniform, a dark suit that I hadn't remembered seeing in the news. Clint walked behind him, sunglasses perched on his nose.

"You heard the boss. Chop chop, ladies."

"Uh, yeah, not a lady," Tony commented, following. The others went after him, leaving me sheepishly lurking behind the group. I was struck again by the cold air that hit us as we left the building, though the snow had stopped falling for the time being. My breath pooled out in a fog in front of my face.

"Watch your step," Steve said, offering his hand as I neared the new jet. It looked nearly exactly the same as the old one, to my disappointment, but I wasn't going to complain. It could have been worse. It could have been smaller.

"Thank you."

I took his hand and he lifted me up into the back of the jet, trying to pretend that the burning sensation on my palm from where our skin met wasn't there. I tried to keep my face straight despite the elevation in my heart rate. Another involuntary reaction. _But he_ is _Captain America. You know how much you adore him,_ I thought. I quickly shook my head and quickly headed away from the dear Captain, surveying the plane. Yes, this one was just like the other. Right down to the hard metal benches.

"Clint, what's the deal with the platform back here? Why isn't it all the way down?" Steve called, his voice echoing across the metal.

"Don't know. Won't go down any more. I'm sure it's not a problem." Clint yelled from the front.

"Great, faulty plane. My favorite," Bruce muttered inside. I took my seat next to him, disregarding the uneasy look he gave me as I did.

"Is Thor coming?" Clint asked, swiveling his pilot chair around a bit to face us.

"He took off," Steve said, lifting himself into the back. "Said he had to do some research back home to try to figure out our little alien problem."

"'Little' alien problem," I said under my breath, baffled by the idea that there was something worse than this that he considered a 'big' alien problem. What world had I gotten into?

"Darn. He's always fun to have around," Clint commented, turning back to the front. "Everyone in?"

"Looks like it," Steve answered.

"Great. Let's get going, then."

He flipped a switch and the back platform pulled up, latching to the top of the jet with a secure click. Steve made his way over and sat on the steel bench right across from me, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Feeling warmer?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," I said, suddenly flustered by the soft smile on his lips as he watched me. He seemed to notice my reaction and sat back again, his eyes drifting elsewhere. Or maybe he'd just been done with his inspection and had no need to look at me any longer. Surely I looked nothing to him like he looked to me. I knew I had an attractive face, but he must have seen dozens of faces like mine. He had fan girls just like me. Some were probably far more beautiful. I was nothing. Still, I couldn't help but notice a few more stray looks from him as we waited.

After a few moments, and with a lurch, the jet took off into the sky again.

It only took about an hour of flight time before I realized something was wrong. From my seat—which was closest to the back end of the plane—I could hear a constant high pitched whistle coming from where the platform had sealed, as if air was leaking through it as we sped above the clouds.

"Is that supposed to be making that sound?" I asked, looking around the room for answers.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Clint yelled from the front. "You ever been in a plane before? They make some weird sounds, trust me."

"Well I…"

I sighed and tucked my hair behind my ear to keep the thick waves out of my face. In all this mess it had gotten itself completely tangled again, and though there was really no point in trying to fix it, I at least wanted it to be out of the way.

"Don't worry, Annabelle. Planes make me uneasy too," Bruce said quietly. "Mainly because the big guy could come out and destroy this and everyone on it in minutes."

"That must be incredibly scary," I said, keeping my voice low. I leaned over a bit and lightly touched my hand to his arm in a comforting gesture, but he shied away from it. My hand hung there for a moment before I pulled it back into my lap, hoping I hadn't made him too uncomfortable. I wasn't sure why I'd felt so inclined to make the gesture; I only knew that some part of me sympathized with Bruce's condition, and I wanted to be support for him. But I suppose touching was not the way to do that. Especially not when he was already anxious.

"...so, why are you afraid? I know you mentioned your mother, but how did she..?" he asked again after a moment, looking at me carefully. I inhaled through my nose. I thought I saw a flash of those shadowy figures from before, though it may well have just been my imagination. They'd been my imagination in the first place, anyway.

"She was ill for many years after my birth. She took her last breath on a visit to Russia to see her family. They couldn't revive her. She died up there, alone, no family by her side. In a metal coffin flying through the air at high speeds."

"You must miss her," he said. That was a huge understatement. Though it had been ten years now since she passed, sometimes the pain of losing her still engulfed me. I didn't think it was ever going to go away. I almost didn't want it to. It was one more thing that kept her in my mind, even when the memories were fuzzy.

"Yes, I do," I said, keeping my eyes forward, where they rested on a bolt in the metal interior of the jet. I didn't want to betray how much her death still affected me. They'd think it silly, surely, that I was still hung up on it.

The door beside us whistled loudly, a headache forming in between my eyes. I pinched the bridge of my nose, the pressure building.

"Hey, see if there's a hole that you can cover up," Clint called. I took a deep breath and stood, walking over to the platform, ready to solve this however I could so that it was one less thing to make me—and Bruce—uneasy. I searched around the edges to find where the leak was, biting down on the edge of my lip in concentration. The door upon first inspection seemed tightly sealed, and I could feel no air coming from any potential breach. I couldn't exactly pinpoint where the whistling was coming from, either.

"I don't see any hole," I said, crouching down near the right edge. "Maybe it's just—"

I was cut off as the platform swung open, the sudden rush of air suffocating me. I hit the ground hard and slid across the metal, letting out an involuntary shriek as I was thrown towards the outside. Wind whipped my hair over my face. I tried to grab an edge, anything, but I couldn't find one. As I neared the end of the platform I felt a jolt, someone grabbing me from behind with one secure arm and tugging me back. My heart throbbed in my chest, though that throbbing still couldn't be considered 'beating,' necessarily. I held tight to the arm wrapped around me, trying to catch my breath as they pulled me back in. Though I couldn't catch a full breath, not with the back still allowing dangerous winds to whip through the space, at least I felt I wasn't going to plunge to my death.

"You are not having a good day," my holder said, which I now recognized as Steve by his voice.

"So, I guess that's my bad?" Clint yelled from the front.

"Pretty much," I heard Tony say. I clung to Steve's arm like my life depended on it, even as he held me upright and helped me plant my feet firmly on the ground.

"Always have to save the girl, don't you, Cap?" Tony jabbed at him, jokingly. There did seem to be some sort of very subtle animosity behind it, though.

"Well someone has to. Were you just going to let her fall?"

"Sure, for a while. Just for fun. But then I'd go get her."

"Real mature, Stark."

"I'm sure she'd have a good time."

"Thinking she's falling to her death? I don't think so."

"Well, I would have a good time."

"Always thinking about yourself."

"Yeah, I tend to."

"Uh, fellas," Natasha cut in. I watched as she lifted a finger, her gaze just over Steve's shoulder. He had turned us away from the open platform, but now he shifted us again. Still clinging to him, I had no choice but to see what Natasha was gesturing to. I froze. Standing at the edge of the platform was one of the aliens, its long, skinny tongue snaked out to the side as the wind blew it, the odd glyphs and symbols on its white skin pulsing with a faint blue glow. Looking at it now, it reminded me of some sort of dog, that tongue flailing around, though the lack of eyes made it clear there was little resemblance to anything on Earth. Not to mention it was incredibly unsettling.

It dug its claws into the metal with a sickly screech, the glyphs suddenly flaring with bright light. The plane lurched, sputtered, and rolled side to side, my stomach dropping. Steve's grip on me grew tighter as he backed us away from the creature. He nearly lost his balance as the engines puttered out and we were thrown back by the sudden lack of motion. Planes were developed to glide if they lost power, but I had a feeling this jet—meant to go and stop as quickly as possible with a wide range of motion—may have worked a bit differently.

"We're losing power!" Clint yelled. I stared at the creature as it stood there, claws imbedded in the platform still, realizing exactly which creature this was. This was the one that stole my abilities. And it was using them to bring us down, just like I'd brought down Tony's suit and tower before.

"Everyone grab a parachute!" Steve shouted, releasing me and setting into motion. Someone threw a large bag at me that almost toppled me over. I held it tightly, watching as Steve sprinted at the alien with his shield and tried to pry it from the metal. It hissed and released its grip, only to latch itself onto the edges of Steve's shield. He spun and forcefully smashed it against the side of the wall, but to no avail. It stuck like glue, those glyphs pulsing up with light again. I panicked, knowing full well that with my abilities this creature could kill Steve pretty quickly without even touching him, and he was in the perfect position. Not knowing what to do I hurled my parachute bag at it, catching it off guard. It sprung back from the shield and flicked its head towards me, now completely defenseless. Steve went at it with his shield again but it leaped out of the way and took off towards me, teeth bared, light flaring off of it. Familiar light. Warm light.

I backed away, though it wasn't going to make much of a difference, and held my hands out in means of protection. It was stupid, really; what was I supposed to do when it dug its claws into my skin? Or, worse, what could I do if it used my own abilities against me? I could hear Steve yell something, loud, and then, accompanied by a great crash, a flash of lightning engulfing the room. I heard a scream, though I couldn't decipher if it was human or not, or even my own. I lowered my hands to see that the creature had stopped coming towards me, laying limply at the feet of Thor, who held his hammer before him.

"Return what you have stolen, beast," he said, bringing his hammer down hard on the creature's head. It cracked as the hammer collided with it, one last scream exiting its mouth before it fell completely still. Nausea rolled over me at the sound. It only took a moment for the glyphs to lose their glowing color, and suddenly I felt overwhelmed with power. My chest constricted and my vision blurred, my body swaying to the side as the energy flowed back through me, crippling power that made my eyes burn. I let out a gasp of air and fell against the side of the wall, trying to regain my balance. The room spun. Everything inside of me burned. Yet it wasn't a bad burn; it was more of a welcome reintegration of power, searing light that was so familiar. Through the pain, it was soothing. My heart throbbed in my chest. My knees hit the floor, the blinding light inside of me dying down, and I was aware again of everyone else in the room. My vision was still blurred, though the secondary vision, the one that came with my abilities and let me see that fantastic, energetic light within everyone, came to life.

"We're still going down, guys!" Clint called.

"Stark, get Annabelle. We have to go," Steve said, strapping himself up to a parachute. Every limb of mine tingled with power, but I found I couldn't will myself to move.

"Good thing you put those sweatpants on, sweetheart. It's going to be a cold ride," Tony said. He swooped over and picked me up, now fully suited, the metal chilled already from the biting wind.

"Hold on tight."

I did so as best I could, wrapping my arms tightly around the neck of the suit while still trying to clear my head and relax enough to make my body stop trembling. He shot out the back platform, the cold air hitting my face like a brick wall, my breath forced out of me. I saw the others jumping from the plane and falling, Clint getting out just before it sputtered and took a sharp turn downwards. In a minute it had disappeared completely through the clouds.


	14. Book I Ch 14

"Green, stop."

"I can't help it."

"No, seriously, stop it."

"I can't..!

"Annabelle!" Tony's thrusters sputtered and dropped us another few feet before coming back on. I clung to the suit, my eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled. I involuntarily shot another surge of energy through the suit and we lost more altitude, twirling helplessly through the sky for a few seconds before jolting back upward.

"I will drop you," he said.

"Maybe that would be best!"

"Or, you know, you could just stop."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you I'm not doing it on purpose."

Another surge, another several feet closer to the ground, which was still a few hundred feet below us. The snow and cold air made it hard to see nearly anything around us. I hoped the others had made it to the ground safely.

"That's it. You're done."

"Wha—" Tony shoved me away from him, sending me spiraling through the freezing cold. I let out a weak scream, though the air was so chilled and rushing so fast through my lungs that I could barely get anything out.

Warm fingers wrapped around my wrist and I was pulled upwards with a jolt. In a moment, as my body adjusted, I found that I wasn't falling anymore. I was gliding. I looked up to see Natasha, her red hair blowing wildly like fire against the white blizzard. She blinked a few snow crystals out of her eyes as she peered down at me. I could feel the energy welling inside of me as I watched her face, her lips curled in a smile. She was unaware of the danger.

"Need a lift?" she asked. I squirmed, trying to force her fingers off of my wrist. My own were so cold that it was hard to get them to move, but I had to keep trying. If I was 'pulsing' enough to take down Tony's suit, I didn't want to know what I could do to Natasha, a human body.

I sucked in a painfully deep breath and pushed myself away from her as soon as I freed my wrist. She yelled something after me as I plummeted away from her, the cold air once again numbing my senses enough that I couldn't make out her words. My head spun. Holding out my arms, trying to balance myself with the wind, I got myself straight enough to look up at the sky.

The storm above me was beautiful; the snow twisted and weaved together, spinning in small spirals of frigid air. I was falling faster than them, of course, but if I relaxed enough it almost felt as if I myself was a snowflake, drifting. Time seemed to slow. My ears were so cold that I was unaware if anyone was calling for me, and I couldn't see through the thick white to see if there was anyone nearby. I felt my body pulse, but it was far more comfortable now that I knew I wasn't affecting anyone. _Pulse._ The snow danced along my skin as I passed it, the cold wind caressing me. _Pulse._ The electricity inside of me wasn't painful, not really. I felt like I was waking up, like the pulses were the hesitant blinking of tired eyes coming out of slumber. _Pulse._ I couldn't locate where the sun was above me, the clouds so thick and so filled with moisture that they blotted everything out. If I focused enough, I—

I hit the ground. The packed snow managed to somewhat buffet my fall, but not enough. My breath was sharply forced out of me as I collided, falling through layers and layers of packed snow, all of which started folding over my face as I went down. Eventually, the snow was enough to stop my momentum.

Sputtering, I spit the icy crystals out of my mouth, trying to shut it before more piled in. I flinched as my body released yet another surge of energy, the snow around me lighting up in a cool blue light. My back ached. I couldn't see anything but snow, the thick, fallen layers pushing down on my chest painfully.

I felt Natasha running towards me, saw that bright light within her as she came to stand nearby where I'd fallen, Clint behind her. It was funny seeing his energy now, after I'd already become familiar with his face. The others had been so naturally identified by the lights that hung around them, but Clint I'd had to identify differently because of the momentary loss of power. It was like finally noticing a trait of someone's that you never had before.

An arm came through the snow and grasped my wrist, tugging me up. The snow was so heavy that my arm pulled in my socket, but eventually I was freed. The chilled wind hit my snow covered face. Hard.

"You look like a yeti," Clint snorted.

"Clint," Natasha scolded, though she looked somewhat amused. Then, turning to me: "Are you alright, Annabelle? That fall could have easily killed you."

"I'm fine," I said slowly, wiping some snow off my face. I'd forgotten that Clint and Natasha weren't present when we'd discovered my ability to take falls earlier. If they'd have seen the hole I created outside of Stark tower, they wouldn't have been concerned.

I put a hand to my hair and found it packed with thick snow, though I could hardly feel the snow itself with my frozen fingers.

"That's crazy. You're crazy. I saw you falling and was sure you were a gonner," Clint said.

"Yes, well," I muttered.

I stretched my back, hearing a few pops.

"You're really something," Natasha said. A small, softer smile lined her lips. They were pink and bright, standing out against her skin almost as much as her hair stood out against the snow. Both her and Clint's noses were red and wind beaten. I wondered if I looked the same; or maybe I looked worse.

"Everyone okay?" Steve asked, joining the group, panting, his breath fogging up all around his face. My renewed energy-vision—or whatever it actually was—showed me his bright, warm aura. If it wasn't so cold out already, my cheeks would have flushed with endearment.

"Annabelle took a fall, but she's fine," Clint explained, gesturing to me to make his point.

"Yeah, but she's really cold. Could get hypothermia. Better warm her up quick," Natasha joked. She shot me a look, a playful, sort of suggestive look, and I realized what she was doing. Was my affection that obvious? I stammered as Steve stepped forward, his face serious. Yes, of course my affection was obvious; I acted like a smitten teenager around him, and Natasha must have already picked up on it. But it wasn't my fault. I couldn't control the twisting in my stomach, nor logically explain why it was happened. _You're already completely devoted to him,_ I thought. An uncomfortable lump formed in my throat.

"Up we go," Steve said, reaching down and pulling me up. He tucked me into his massive frame, his warmth engulfing me, my heart throbbing against my chest. My face was so hot it should have been steaming in this cold.

"Banner's loose."

Tony flew down, hovering above them. I tried to get a look at him over Steve's arm, but it was no use. I guess I didn't want to see his facial expression anyway. He'd probably enjoy this scene—and my embarrassment—far more than he should have. I tucked my hands up in between Steve and I, balling them together to try to warm them.

"Need you to go grab him, Natasha," Tony spoke up again.

"Roger," she said, sprinting away. I tracked the light of her energy until she was out of my range, hoping that Bruce, wherever he ended up, wasn't too far. And I hoped that he was alright.

"Capsicle, you can cop a feel later. Base is this way," Tony said. His feet crunched against the snow, the steps getting farther away.

"Mature," Steve mumbled, suddenly and carefully swooping me up over his shoulder to transport me. A strange sound escaped my lips and I held tight to what little I could grab of his suit. My heart was still pounding. That was a relief at least. That was better than it not beating at all. Still, surely Steve could feel it, and that was embarrassing. Maybe I could play it off as an adrenaline rush from the fall. Actually, it probably was partially that.

"On we go," Clint said from behind Steve, watching me with an amused look in his eyes. Was he in on this too? I narrowed my eyes at him but didn't say a word, focusing on rubbing my hands together as soon as I felt Steve held me securely enough that I wasn't going to dive back into the snow.

We walked for what I guessed to be about a half an hour before we got to a single small pillar sticking out of the ground, an entire side of it covered in snow. Steve had set me down a few minutes earlier, after I informed him that my legs were falling asleep, and I trudged forward through the snow to get a closer look at it.

"Woah," I said quietly, staring. With my abilities back it was easy for me to see that there was an entire building underneath the snow, all connected to the pillar and buzzing with electric energy. Just like the tower, this energy twisted and connected, weaving in and out in colorful bursts. Whatever was under the snow, it was pretty sufficiently powered. It was enough for me to see that the structure itself was large, and it may have been even larger if there were parts of it that weren't powered.

I placed my hand on the pillar, then quickly removed it when I realized what capability I had. I couldn't power this down like Stark Tower. If I did, we were out of luck out here in the cold. Annabelle Green being the demise of the entire Avengers team didn't seem like a great news header.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Tony asked, landing beside me and kicking up a flood of water as the snow melted under his thrusters.

"It's amazing," I admitted.

"It's a pillar," Steve said, holding the front of his belt, eyebrow raised. Tony made a strange and obnoxious sound in response.

"How much of it can you see, Green?"

He nudged me, the armor freezing cold.

"Just the electricity," I said. "Seems like a large structure."

"Of course. I like to hide out in style," he responded coolly.

He stepped forward and placed his armored hand against the flat top of the pillar. Something in the energy underneath shifted, and for a moment tiny bands of light seemed to slither out of the pillar and caress the metal.

"Any news from Natasha yet on the Bruce situation?" Tony asked, as I watched the motion of the lights, mesmerized. It was scanning his suit, making sure that he was the one allowed to enter whatever lay below.

"Not yet." Clint said. "I'm sure she's got it under control."

"I'll go check on her as soon as I get you guys inside."

Tony moved to the side, the ground shaking for a moment as the pillar sunk down into the snow. A stone platform rose from under our feet, my balance faltering as it lifted us up, shifting our positions. Steve grabbed my arm to steady me. I was still so cold that I could hardly feel his fingers over the fabric of my shirt.

"Going down," Tony said.

The platform shook and descended, packed snow falling around us as it moved. We were pretty far down—the white sky above was nothing but a tiny dot, like looking through a keyhole—when it came to a halt, a large corridor opening up at the side. Snow curled around our feet, starting to evaporate from the rush of warm air that came from the hall. It stung as it hit my chilled skin, but I took several steps into it anyway. Warm, soothing air brushed my cheeks.

Something spiked, a large burst of light that I was sure wasn't visible to anyone but me. I tilted my head up and looked up at what little I could see of the sky, squinting my eyes. The light only got brighter as it approached. In a moment, I recognized it.

"Thor is coming," I said.

"What? If he thinks he's—"

Tony was cut off as Thor crashed down beside him, hammer in hand, his hair covered in snow.

"Did you just jump from all the way up there?" Clint asked, looking as baffled as he had when he'd pulled me out of the snow earlier.

"Yes," Thor said plainly.

"I'm surrounded by lunatics who can take deadly falls like it's no problem. How did I get myself here? Why did I do it? I need to retire," Clint mumbled on, stepping off the platform and heading down the hall. The others followed, and me behind them.

"Are Bruce and Natasha going to be alright?" I asked as I caught up with Tony. His suit was retracting, little mechanical hands snaking out of the walls to grab the pieces as he unequipped them. They were all lined with lights. Everything was so much brighter now. Had it been this bright before?

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll be fine. Natasha knows what she's doing. She'll calm him down and get him back here before he freezes. Hopefully."

"Maybe you should go check now."

I looked at him with concern, worried for the two of them. After all, without the Hulk, Bruce was only human. And from what I could tell, Natasha was pretty human as well. The temperatures out there would get to them much quicker than someone like Steve, or Tony in his suit. Losing two of the team didn't seem beneficial right now. Besides, my fondness for Bruce was no secret. I didn't want to think about him freezing out there in the cold.

"Give me a minute, I'll go," he said, pushing a panel on the side wall as we approached. The wall slid down and he herded us into the hall beyond it, letting the door shut behind him. It was getting warmer and warmer the deeper we got into the building, water dripping down my scalp as my hair defrosted.

"Just walk a little farther and you'll hit the main room. There's clothes and showers here if anyone needs that taken care of. I'll go check on the other two so Annabelle will stop whining," Tony said, taking a step back.

"I'm not—" Before I could finish he was gone, already sealing the wall behind us shut. I sighed.

"Let's get you inside," Steve said, putting a hand to my back to push me forward. I nodded my head once and followed as they walked on.

"Banner will not like being so far underground," Thor mused, looking up at the high ceiling.

"He'll be fine," I said. I stuffed my hands deep in my pockets, trying not to think of what it would be like to have the Hulk make an appearance while we were all trapped in here. More importantly, I didn't want Bruce to have to deal with those repercussions. Still, I believed in his ability to keep calm. He really would be fine; I wasn't worried.

My hand brushed against the pyramid-like object in my pocket, which I'd already forgotten about in all this upset. Kathrine...there was a warmness that welled up inside of me when I thought of her, like a fondness for an old friend. Was she? Had I forgotten her. I pinched the tip of the object and took a deep breath. Maybe this had all the answers.

"It's nice that you trust him so much after only knowing him for such little time," Steve said, looking over his shoulder at me. "Usually people aren't like that."

"I guess I understand him. I know how terrifying it is to not have control of yourself. It isn't his fault," I said, on the quieter side. I rubbed my thumb along the metal edge, tracing it until the tip of the pyramid poked my finger.

"Here we are. Ridiculous as I expected," Clint said with a whistle. I lost my focus on the object and looked around at my new surroundings. I'd been walking on autopilot down the hall, my body too chilled and my mind too preoccupied to really take anything in. Now that I was here, though, I saw the full glory of Tony's bunker.

The room we ended up in was filled with warm colors, a great contrast to the cold world above us, paintings lining the walls and a large TV hanging above a marble fireplace. There were couches cuddled in front of it, and a medium sized kitchen off to the side. Right now I wanted nothing more than to collapse onto one of those couches, but I knew I had to dry off before I did anything. Hopefully Tony and the others would make it back soon so that I could be shown to wherever an available room was for me to change. Not that I had clothes to change into. I could only hope that Tony had some clothes stored away to dress everyone, and I hoped that whatever he had for me was not spandex and two sizes too small. _Wouldn't he just love that._

"Not bad," Thor said from behind me. That brilliant glow of his energy radiated more intensely than the others, hanging off of him like a golden veil. I wondered if it was because he was Asgardian; what did that say about people outside of Earth? Were they brighter simply because they weren't from here? Or were humans that much weaker? No, surely the lights didn't indicate strength; it was more like...personality. Identity. I couldn't put my finger on it. There was so much emotion in these lights that hung around and pooled inside of everyone, and I found that even in my thoughts I couldn't put appropriate words to it.

"Don't stare off into space too long. We might lose you," Clint joked, slapping me lightly on the shoulder. I focused my eyes back on the room, trying to observe just the physical. There was so much to unpack with the abilities; maybe one day I would have time to figure them out. But not now. I was glad I could shift my attention off of them.

"I don't blame you. It is preeeetty nice in here," Clint continued, mistaking my wandering mind for awe at the room. He wandered off to explore it on his own, leaving the three of us remaining behind.

Thor set his hammer on an end table and headed for the kitchen. Steve and I stood at the entrance. I didn't want to move, didn't want to touch anything here and mess it up like I had with the tower. My emotions needed to be kept in check and my body needed to equalize, normalize, settle back into the abilities that had been so forcefully taken and abruptly returned. Still, it was a good sign that I was already readjusting to them. I tried not to get distracted by Steve's sidelong look, his eyes on my face, the light of his aura lined with curiosity. Yes, these were definitely auras. They were expressions of the people they operated within—pure expressions. I don't know why realizing that made me feel all the more embarrassed at Steve's gaze. I turned my head away.


	15. Book I Ch 15

After an hour, Tony, Bruce, and Natasha still hadn't returned. I paced around the doorway for the first half hour, anxious and wondering if we should go out and help with the search, but Steve eventually convinced me to sit down. I felt like I could have sunk right into the couch; my body was so tired after all that had gone on today, and I swore I could hear my joints groan as I relaxed against the soft cushions. Steve had taken it upon himself to look over the facility, and with Clint already inspecting on his own, I was left with Thor. He'd been picking through the fridge, commenting on the poor selection. I was surprised there was a selection at all. This was a secret bunker after all. Though I suppose Tony was tactful enough to keep it stocked at all times.

"Are you hungry, Annabelle Green?" Thor asked, walking behind me. Somewhere in the scheme of things he had changed back into his armor, his grand cape brushing the back of my mangled hair as he passed.

"No, thank you," I responded. I'd slumped farther and farther down the couch with every minute, and was now curled in an odd position, my heels sliding a bit across the floor as I tried to keep myself from slipping off completely. This certainly wasn't helping my joints feel any better. I couldn't seem to will up enough power to sit myself back up.

"That is a good choice. All the food here is garbage."

He leaped from behind the couch and landed in front, throwing his cape backwards before gracefully sitting down beside me. I could see this even through my mess of hair, which had fallen more and more over my eyes as I slid down the couch. Through the strands, I stared at him. He tilted forward and attempted to view my face, leaning his head to the side, making a face like he was trying to talk to a child.

"You look awfully disheveled," he said. I puffed some hair out of my mouth.

"Yes, I imagine."

"You have had a rough day?"

"Clearly."

"You know, I, being a god, get into all sorts of troubles all the time that I must fix,"—he swung his hammer from side to side. I couldn't recall when he'd picked it up. Had he picked it up?—"and everyone is always relying on me to get it done. You can't even imagine the things I have seen. Dark things. Other worlds. Gross, toady people, really gross, trust me, you should not ever go to that planet..."

I continued to stare through my hair as he droned on about planets and adventures, most of which, I would bet, were very exaggerated. What was the point in telling me all this? _He's trying to impress you,_ I thought, but that didn't seem right. He had no reason to. He was just talking to talk, his aura swelling with pride as he did. Ordinarily, I would find talk of other planets and life extremely interesting, but right now, after all that had happened, I just didn't have the capacity to even listen to all of it.

I slid a bit farther down on the couch.

"I thought Stark was the egotistical one, but yeesh, you go on," a female voice called. At first I thought Natasha had returned, though a quick evaluation of the room with my abilities told me that there was no one but Thor and I here. Maybe it was another AI, like Jarvis? I sat up and brushed my hair back, my fingers getting tangled in it as I did so.

"Ah, the Kobra! I did not know you were here," Thor bellowed, turning his head back to see where the voice had come from. I did the same, shifting in my seat until I saw her. Standing a few feet from us, she was a brunette donning a SHIELD crested uniform, her hair pulled into a tight bun. Her lips formed a lazy grin. Yet I still couldn't see her, not like I'd grown used to seeing everyone else. There were no lights around her body, no aura. No color. I involuntarily held my breath as I stared at her.

"I'm here on Kathrine's orders," she said. "I hope that Your Highness doesn't mind."

"You are always a welcome friend, Naomi Taylor," Thor responded, smiling a toothy smile.

"Kathrine?" I asked. I still hadn't taken the pyramid she'd given me out of my pocket. I was a little nervous to.

"Yup. She sent me here. I'm making sure everyone is in check and all is well," she said, turning her gray eyes to me. They were a bit sharp, though the rest of her face was still relaxed, amused. Her lack of aura unnerved me.

"Odd. Didn't know Kathrine wanted to keep tabs on us," Steve said, entering the room.

"I didn't question it. She's probably working off of Fury. That's my guess." This woman—Naomi—shrugged her shoulders.

"Is she keeping tabs on me specifically?" I asked. Thor, catching my eye, furrowed his brow.

"Why would she be doing that?"

"Maybe because you're kind of new around here?" Naomi suggested, but the tone in her voice shifted, as if she wasn't saying all she knew.

"She gave me something at the base," I said, though I wasn't sure why I was bringing up the metal piece now, in front of a woman who I couldn't even trust. Yet I was pulling it out of my pocket and holding it out to her before I could stop myself, the movements automatic, like my fingers were operating on their own terms. Steve's aura spiked, though I couldn't pinpoint in which emotional direction.

"A trinket?" Naomi asked.

"She said I would know how to use it when I was ready. She seemed serious about it," I said, sinking back into the couch. Why was I telling her this? Why did I even give it to her? There had been some sort of hint that the so called 'trinket' was important to my life, and some sort of glimpse into my missing memories. And yet I'd just handed it over to this woman who I couldn't even properly analyze.

"Huh," she responded. She examined it from multiple angles.

"Let me see it," Steve said, his voice a bit harsh. Naomi willingly handed it over. As she did, it slipped through Steve's fingers and crashed onto the hard floor, shattering. My mouth gaped open. I'd thought it was metal, durable, but that simple fall had taken it out. Why hadn't it broken while it was in my pocket? Or, a better question, why hadn't Steve tried to grab it?  
"Oh. Sorry," Steve said, halfheartedly. My heart thudded.

"Why did you do that?" I caught myself asking.

"It slipped."

"You moved your fingers. You meant for it to," I said, my words coming out a bit bitter. I couldn't tear my eyes from the broken shards. There had been something in there, and something that was apparently important to my condition. And now it was gone.

"Nice going, Rogers," Naomi commented.

"Look, it was just a little ornament," he said, bending down to view the shards. "Not a big deal. I'm sure Kathrine was just messing with you when she gave it to you."

I still couldn't look away from it. Anger swelled up inside of me, that same anger that I hadn't felt since that night, when I'd been lost and alone on the streets of New York after the accident. All of that anger lit up in my core, all directed at Steve. He'd let it fall. He'd broken it on purpose. He—

I inhaled sharply and gripped the couch, trying to calm myself. It was only the abilities that were making me so angry. This wasn't me. Steve straightened up and turned his eyes on me, and, despite that anger, I forced a smile.

"It's okay," I said, somewhat quietly, as controlled as possible. "It's okay. I'll find Ms. Zindel again when this is over and get things sorted out."

Steve's expression softened, his brow twisting, something between guilt and worry.

"Yeah. Sure," he said. "Just don't get your hopes up, alright? From my experience, Ms. Zindel likes to withhold information. She's tricky."

"How well do you even know Kathrine?" Naomi asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I know enough," he responded.

"Yeah, well, I spend a lot of time with her. Too much time, sometimes, if you ask me. She's a little stuffy. But I wouldn't call her tricky," Naomi went on.

"She alters people's thoughts," he said darkly. For some reason, the hair on the back of my neck raised, a chill splitting through my spine.

"It's really minor, Captain. They wouldn't give her such free reign if it wasn't, and you know that," she retorted. He sighed.

"I guess I'm just paranoid. This entire situation has been really unnerving. I feel like we should be out there, helping, not in here, locked up and waiting for something to act on."

"I feel the guilt too," I said, finally able to look away from the shards. The anger had almost completely subsided. Whatever it was that was causing those emotional spikes, I could get a hold on it. I had to. Especially in this small space. It was just an ornament. Just a tool. I would get things sorted. I would find a way to get my memories back.

"Hey, crew."

Tony's voice carried down the hall, and I sprung up despite the complaints of my joints. In my focus on my emotions I'd hardly had time to look out beyond me, so I hadn't even seen him and the others coming until they were already in the room. Bruce looked battered, tired, and cold, but in one piece. Natasha had an arm around him to keep him up. I breathed out in relief.

"Good to see you're both okay," Steve said, nodding at Natasha, who did the same in return.

"And me, too, but whatever," Tony muttered, heading towards the couch. "Taylor. What an unpleasant surprise."

"Admit it, your heart is leaping out of your chest at the sight of me," Naomi said, throwing an arm dramatically over her forehead, imitating a swoon. Tony rolled his eyes, though his aura was light and amused.

"That is the last thing that would ever happen. Gross. No thanks. Major pass," he said.

"You wouldn't be passing if you were single," she shot back, jokingly.

"Uh, yeah, I did pass when I was single. Who were you dating again? Let me see if I remember this picture correctly: long hair, dyed—and horribly—black, tattoo across the forehead? Maybe 'mom' on his knuckles? Tiny—"

"That was _one_ time," she groaned. His lip twitched upward in a grin.

"Stark, this isn't a time to be joking. What's our game plan?" Steve cut in.

"Relax, Cap, we're getting it figured out. We're in contact with SHIELD on the outside, and they're analyzing the situation. The minute we know how to strike these things, we will," he said, heading to the kitchen.

"Uh, yeah, who made a mess of this fridge?" he asked.

"It was a mess before," Thor commented. Natasha led Bruce out of the room as Tony shot back with one of his outrageous sounds, gesturing wildly at the fridge. I watched Bruce with worry, but thought better of following—and bothering—him right now. I would give him time.

"Group meeting, guys. We'll fill Banner and Natasha in later. Meet downstairs in five," Tony said. I shifted my eyes up, wondering why he had a need for such a sudden meeting, and saw Naomi had moved over towards him. She was motioning at something on a small hand-held device and her face, for the first time since she'd made her presence known, was serious. The others started to file out, heading to wherever this 'downstairs' was—I hadn't realized there were more underground levels. I had to wonder how big this place really was, beyond what I was able to tell through energies.

When I headed after Steve, keeping a safe distance should my anger spike up again, someone grabbed my arm. It was Naomi. Her face was still set as it was before, devoid of any expression that I could grasp onto in place of her missing aura.

"Not you," she said. My mouth gaped open, but I couldn't will any words to come out before she and Tony had passed me, heading down the hall after Thor, whose cape once again billowed behind him. Steve, a ways up, looked over his shoulder in concern at me, though he, too, was gone before I could say anything. I stood until they were far away, off to discuss business without me. _You're not part of the team,_ I thought, though I didn't know why I would have thought otherwise before. I was just an unlucky extra set of baggage, caught up with a circumstance that had nothing to do with me. Or…

 _Are you aware that your renewed presence is attracting unfriendly outside attention?_

Fury's words came back to me. He'd said that just before the ship came into view, before we'd had to make an emergency exit away from things we didn't understand. Before one of those things targeted and held on to _me_ , taking advantage of my abilities. It couldn't have been a coincidence, could it? Had Fury known what was going to happen? Was I in the center of it?

I crouched down and set to work picking up the shattered pieces of what Kathrine had given me, the little metallic shards weightless as I laid them on my palm, one after the other, mechanically. My heart, ever throbbing in my chest, seemed to constrict.


	16. Book I Ch 16

I sat quietly on the couch as the others conversed somewhere below me, their emotions too stable for me to track anything significant. I realize that Naomi's presence made things fuzzy for me, anyway, so trying to glean a reason for their meeting from here wasn't going to work. Seeing how she'd looked at me before they left, I could only imagine the meeting was about me. That made me uncomfortable. And, it supported the idea that I was the one who somehow caused all of this, and nothing could make me feel sicker than that. I didn't come here to make trouble. I hadn't even come on my own accord, necessarily. I'd lost my temper, destroyed everything I knew, and apparently now I was bringing the destruction with me.

When no one returned, I set off down the hall to find a room to lay down in. My body still ached and my mind was running me tirelessly. I could only hope that with some deep breathing and a comfortable bed I might be able to lull myself to sleep. Getting a nap in, no matter how small, would probably be a good idea. I didn't even have any indication of what time it was, only my body's inner clock that was out of whack and giving me mixed signals. It didn't help that I didn't know where we even were in the world.

The first available room looked inviting enough, and I left the door slightly cracked behind me before sitting myself down on the bed. I practically sunk in immediately. Before I knew it my head was against the pillow, and for a moment, only a moment, my body felt relaxed. Apparently that was enough, though, because I was lulled into deep sleep very quickly. As my dreams had been recently, the ones that came to me then were littered with odd almost-memories, bits of my father, myself, things I couldn't piece together. There where whispers knocking around the inside of my brain as I slept.

 _You know who you are. You know you're capable._

 _Don't fight what you feel._

 _One day soon you'll have what you want._

 _You can't hide from your destiny. You have a purpose. You know your purpose._

 _In due time._

 _The clock is ticking._

 _Get him._

I shot up, a firm hand grasping my wrist, the pressure of the nails against my skin startling me. Naomi stood before me, leaning over the side of the bed. My heart sputtered violently against my ribs. Though the dreams had ended, the words still bounced around in my head. Who had said them? Why did I know that voice? I jerked my arm away but Naomi kept a firm hold of it, bringing a finger to her lips. The room was dark now, despite the fact that I remembered leaving the light on.

"Don't scream," she said, her voice low. Fear rose in me as she said it, a sort of defensive, primal instinct.

"What do you want with me?" I asked, keeping my voice equally as low.

"I'm just here to make sure you're okay. Kathrine asked me to watch over you, make sure this all wasn't too much for you," she explained.

"What right does Kathrine have to do that?" I shifted and sat up, trying again to free my wrist. She had a surprisingly firm hold, and for some reason I felt powerless against her. My eyes fell on a large metal bracelet she had clasped to her wrist, unease and nausea coming over me, though I couldn't pinpoint why.

"I know things are confusing right now. Just try to relax. Breathe." She finally dropped my wrist. I moved a few inches away from her, as much as I could scoot without looking too dramatic. My eyes were still drawn to the bracelet.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? Here. It was just a precaution," she said.

I watched as she took the bracelet and unfastened it, setting it aside, atop the small night table. Little dots of unique energy started materializing around her; her aura was forming. It was much brighter than I'd expected.

"How—" I started, but she shook her head.

"Complicated. I don't even know. All I know is that they gave that to me before sending me here. I don't even know what it does. What does it do?" she asked.

"I couldn't explain it if I tried," I responded sheepishly. I was glad when she decided not to press for more details. Whatever that thing was, it had blocked my ability to see into her energy. And I didn't like that at all.

"Sorry about the meeting," she started, "SHIELD gets weird about what can and can't be said to people who aren't technically part of the organization. I worked hard for my job there and I'd like to keep it."

"So you weren't discussing me?" I asked, skeptical.

Even though I could see her energy now, it didn't make her any easier to read. I couldn't tell if she was lying to me when she said, "Of course not."

"Anyway, I'm here to make sure you don't cause any problems. You had a nightmare, right? You knocked out all the lights in this hallway," she continued. This surprised me, though it shouldn't have. Though the voices were now gone, and I could hardly remember what they'd even said, clearly they'd been enough to drive me to unconsciously react. This wouldn't be the first time my dreams had caused such an outward disturbance. Why were they so destructive?  
"So everyone is out now? Do we have a plan?" I asked. She shook her head.

"We haven't heard anything back from SHIELD. As soon as we have word, we'll move. Until then we just sit tight. Are you okay with that?" Her eyes bore into mine. I wasn't, and I was anxious about staying here when something—potentially caused by my—bad was happening out there. But all I could do was nod, mesmerized by the gray of her eyes.

"That object Kathrine gave me—the little pyramid that Steve dropped...what was it?" I asked after a moment.

"Beats me. Kathrine moves in mysterious ways."

"And you trust her?"

"Of course." Her response was without hesitation. That eased my nerves a bit. If Kathrine truly was a trustworthy woman, which my heart was sure of, then she would get things sorted the next time I saw her. And, whether the break had been deliberate or not, I would let go of my anger for Steve's actions as best I could. I wasn't going to let these new abilities consume me.

"I should head out and claim a room before all the good ones are gone," Naomi said, straightening herself out.

"Are there bad rooms in this place? That seems hard to believe," I said. She grinned, and her aura—which was light in all senses of the word—bounced a bit. There was something about it that reminded me so much of Tony's, whether it was the behavior of the movement or the color.

"Tony will find the worst place to put me. I'm going to prevent that," she said with a smile. She turned, adjusting her SHIELD-logo jacket over her shoulders as she did, and headed out the door. I lifted my hand in a wave, though the darkness of the room probably made the gesture pointless. The light didn't flicker back on until several minutes had passed.

I got up to wash my face, still feeling a bit uneasy. When I returned to the room my attention was again brought to that small metal bracelet; Naomi had left it behind and it was sitting there, festering, making that one area of the night table seem much darker than it was. It also seemed to be emitting a strange buzzing noise, though I couldn't be sure if that was in my head or not. I cautiously approached it, and despite my unease with it my heart seemed to slow the closer I got. My breathing became shallow. I reached a hand out and lightly touched the surface with my fingers; my abilities faltered as I made contact, a feeling which I could only explain as waves, ripples, strange distortions in the way I saw things through using my abilities. I quickly pulled my hand back. Whatever this was, I didn't want it in here. How had they even come up with such a device for me in the short amount of time I'd had my abilities? Maybe it was a device that stunted all abilities, and it just happened to work on mine as well. No matter the origins of it, I had no interest in keeping it.

I brought a hand towel from the bathroom and managed to scoop the bracelet into it, not wanting to touch it with my bare skin. It still had an effect on me from this close, but it was, at least, not distorting anything the way it had before. I brought it to the door and headed out into the hall, set on finding Naomi and giving it back. I also considered throwing it into the darkest place I could find, the most unvisited corner of the base, but decided against it. This device may have cost SHIELD a lot of money, and I had already destroyed enough property in my time. I would give it back.

With the thing in such close proximity to me it was hard for me to focus on finding Naomi's energy, but eventually I centered in on it and headed in that direction. She was in a room down the hall, the door cracked ever so slightly. I pushed it open.

I hadn't expected Steve to be in there too, nor did I expect the scene that unfolded before me. Naomi was close in front of him, one arm draped around his neck, their lips close. Something bubbled up inside me—something dark. I dropped the towel, the bracelet rolling out of it once it collided with the floor, and took a few shaky steps back. By now I'd made enough of a ruckus to get their attention, and Steve was already reaching out for me, ready to steady my surely wobbling body. But I stepped away from him. I took off back down the hall and shut myself in the room from before, locking it and leaning my back against it, my breath wild as my heart pulsated in my chest. The intensity of the beats made my ribs ache. I pressed myself closer and closer to the door as it radically thumped, anger welling up inside of me so strong that it brought tears to my eyes.

 _How dare she?_ I thought, though somewhere in the back of my mind I realized it was a stupid thing to think. Why was I so upset? I had a crush, that was true, but it was nothing more than that. I shouldn't have been so overcome with rage like this. I shouldn't have—

 _You heard Tony talking earlier. She's nothing but a slut. She's playing him. She's taking him to spite you, to spite your abilities and your position here. She wants to weed you out. Show her who she's messing with. Unlock that door. Go._

I put a hand to my chest and tried to still my thoughts and regulate my breathing, but everything was too intense. I reached my hand over to the door handle and put my finger over the lock, ready to turn, but something stopped me. I hadn't noticed it before, so overcome with anger, but now that I saw it all of that anger dissipated. There, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, was one of the white, eyeless creatures. The runes on its body glowed with many different colors, though that familiar blue of my own abilities was still noticeable.

This was the same creature from the plane, the same one that had grabbed me back at the tower. And it was inside.

A scream caught in my throat as the thing suddenly vanished, reappearing at another side of the room. Its claws dug into the metal wall as it hung from the side, one foot latched to the ceiling, that tail swaying back and forth as it 'eyed' me from above. That awful, awful tongue snaked its way out of its mouth. I could swear I felt saliva drip onto my face. Without thinking too much, I quickly threw myself from the door and away from the creature, my back hitting the opposite wall with my rapid movement. I'd already forgotten how fast I could move. Opening my mouth to yell again, hoping to alarm someone, I was cut off again as a lamp from my table hurled itself at me. I ducked, narrowly missing it. My attention snapped back to the beast. Apparently it had gained a few more abilities since the last time we'd met; I didn't want to think about what poor soul had given their up so that it could utilize them.

Yet again it vanished. I couldn't see it any longer, though its odd, pulsing conglomeration of an aura was visible to me. It appeared to be back in the bathroom. Confirming this, I heard the water go on. Collecting myself as much as possible, I ran to the doorway and looked inside, with enough time to see that all of the faucets in the room had been twisted on. What was worse, water was pouring from them at an incredible speed, one that certainly wasn't natural. The beast clung to the shower, tail whipping up over the edge as it angled its smooth face towards me. A moment of understanding seemed to pass between us; maybe it was because we both had my abilities now, but I realized what its intentions were. It intended to drown me—in fact, it wanted to drown the entire base, flood us out like ants, drawing us back out to the surface where its other hungry brethren were surely waiting. I ran forward and tried to screw the faucets back in the opposite direction, but they were shut tight. Water was already gathering on the floor, flooding me up to my ankles. I yelled out, finally, and the beast made an unsettling clicking sound in return, like it were laughing at me.


	17. Book I Ch 17

I didn't truly start panicking until the water reached my waist. I thought before then that surely someone could hear my yelling, or my pounding on the door—which had proven to be stuck shut now—or even the roaring of the water as it quickly filled the room, still shooting out of all the faucets. But, as the water crawled up my torso, soaking my shirt, I realized no one could hear me. I couldn't even warn them. The lights in the room flickered above me, on and off, giving me a bigger headache than I already had. I tried not to outwardly panic; I didn't need to cause any of the lights in the room to blow out. Being in complete darkness would only make things worse. I felt my feet lift off the tiled floor beneath as I tried to swim up with the rapidly rising water. The ceiling was getting way too close for my comfort. I sucked in a deep breath and dove underwater, swimming over to the now completely submerged door and pressing my hands firmly against it. The resistance of the water wasn't my cause, though, and I felt as though I wasn't even creating enough force to push over a carton of milk, let alone an entire door. And, a Stark enforced door at that.

Swimming back up to the top made me realize that the water was rising even quicker than I had thought, and there was a dangerously small space between the ceiling and the water where I could hold my mouth up to breathe. I started to yell out names again, hoping desperately that someone could hear me. I had to wonder if the water had already started leaking out under the door, going after its unexpected targets. Or, worse, maybe the creature had made work of the other water sources in the building, and the whole thing was already flooding anyway. I sucked in a painful amount of water.

Then, I thought of something. I couldn't imagine why I hadn't thought of it sooner. I'd have cursed myself if I had enough time, but the water was rising fast and I knew I didn't. I drew a deep breath in and yelled, "JARV—"

It was too late. The water cut me off before I could speak, pulling me under until I was completely submerged. Panicked, I pushed myself off of the wall and tried to ram the bedroom door again. It didn't budge, not even a little. I was running out of air quick as I rammed it again pointlessly, my lungs screaming with every slam. I clenched my fists and opened my eyes wide, my body burning and my mind racing. In one last attempt, I forced the building, panicked energy inside of me away, everything erupting around me in light. The door crashed open and I sailed out of the room, choking and sputtering on the water that had forced its way down my throat. The hall beyond was now dark, too dark, as if all the lights had been cut off. Of course; I had cut the power off here, and I prayed here was the only place.

The water in the hall was building now, and it was clear to me that, like I had feared, the water was coming from more than one source. I stood myself up, trying to shake off the daze of nearly drowning, and ran off down the hall to find whoever I could. I couldn't see their bodies, their faces, any features, but I could tell where everyone was simply by the unique color of energy they emitted. For once, I was praising my strange abilities. I located Bruce and Clint first, Thor joining us later; I didn't ask how he'd found us in the dark, but I was grateful he had. I tried to lead everyone through the growing water, until it became hard for us to walk. At that point, we waded.

"Who's there?" I heard Steve yell, his voice carrying down the hall. The water made for odd echoes, like we were all in some flooded cave. We were about to be, if we didn't hurry.

"I'm here," I coughed out. Someone behind him—which I quickly recognized was Tony—had a flashlight on. After a moment, though, I realized it was only his arc reactor.

"What happened?" Steve asked, somewhat feeling around in the dark. I could see the faint energy that moved through his veins, outlining his hand as it skimmed over the water in search of something to hold onto. I reached out and grabbed onto it.

"One of the creatures is in here. It's gained a few new abilities, so it could be anywhere. It started the water in my bathroom, and I have a feeling it started it in other places as well." I choked out as many words as I could before falling into a coughing fit, my lungs aching. I had definitely inhaled too much water earlier.

"That explains why this place is so soggy," Natasha commented, not sounding too pleased as she waded over to the group. I took a quick headcount, finding everyone was accounted for now. That made me feel a little bit better, even though the water inching up my body quickly brought me back to dread.

"Do you think it's still here?" Tony asked. I calmed myself down and took a deep breath, trying to focus on energy as best I could. Now that the power was out it was easier to spot human energy, and not only that, but a separate energy a few doors away that eerily reminded me of my own.

"It's still here," I said.

"You can see it?"

"No, I can feel it. I'm not going to explain it—you won't understand. Just trust me. It's here."

"Cap, grab Annabelle and let's get a move on," Tony said, already on his way down the hall.

"I can't see," said Steve.

"And I am fully capable of walking," I countered.

"Water is rising quick. You're the shortest here," Tony explained. The very slight amusement—shrouded a bit by the agitation of the situation—told me he was just toying with me. I made a few choice words under my breath.

"Follow me," he prompted, a brighter light suddenly shining from where he stood. He'd put on a piece of his armor, just covering his arm. He pointed it down the hall and everyone did their best to follow, keeping close.

"You look like a mess," Steve said, surveying me with the little light he now had.

"Smoooooth," Clint commented from somewhere behind us.

"This is why you don't have a girlfriend," Naomi added. The scene of them together that I'd witnessed earlier was still fresh in my mind, but I did my best to push it away. It wouldn't do anyone any good for me to get angry like that again—especially not when we were all submerged in water.

"I'm not in the market for one. There's too much going on," Steve answered. "I wasn't saying it to be rude, anyway. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I said slowly, "I know what you meant." Did I, though? If I hadn't nearly been drowned, I would have taken offense to his comment. But I didn't want to argue, and I didn't want to start a fight; my emotions had been a little unpredictable towards Steve, it seemed, and starting something now would be bad news. I had to keep my emotions under control.

"In here," Tony's light disappeared into a room to the left, and everyone scuttled after him. The last person in pulled the door shut, the sound seemingly way too loud in the strange silence hanging around the new room. The door was large and sound enough to keep the water out for now, it seemed. If we stayed down here too long, though, we'd run out of air and ruin any chance of escaping. Unless, of course, Tony had a plan. I looked at him expectantly, his face barely visible in the light emerging from his armor.

"What do we do about this?" Natasha asked.

"First I want to know how the hell it got in," Tony replied, bitter. "It shouldn't have been able to get in."

"Well, it is in. And we need to move past the 'how' and think more about what our next plan of action is," Steve said. I ran a hand through my wet hair.

"If I may," Naomi started, stepping a bit closer to the group, "Annabelle can see it. We'll have her keep track of it, let us know where it's moving, all that jazz. Natasha, Clint and I should stand by the door in case it gets in. It'll hit us first. Tony, if you could stay towards the center of the room and keep it somewhat lit, that would be beneficial for everyone's nerves. Even as a grown woman this kind of darkness gives me the heebie jeebies. If Clintasha and I can't keep the creature subdued, it's up to you guys to figure out how to take it down without it doing any damage. Got it?"

"Clintasha?" Clint asked, but he was ignored.

"Sounds pretty solid," Natasha said. "Annabelle, think you can be our eyes?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding my head once even though it was still too dark for anyone to see my gesture. If there was one thing I could do, it was this. Seeing things this way already felt natural to me, so I had no problem locating the alien once again and keeping my focus on it.

"It hasn't moved," I reported.

"Good." Naomi retreated for the door, Clint and Natasha following after. Tony held his armored hand up to keep the room bathed in a dim light, enough that everyone's body shape was easily recognizable.

"Center of the forehead. That's where you need to hit it," Thor said.

"Got it," Naomi called. I fidgeted anxiously as I watched the creature from a few rooms over.

"What are we going to do about the water?" I asked.

"We take care of the creature first. Then we deal with the water," Tony answered. His answer made me uncomfortable, but I chose not to question it. I kept my focus on the faint, odd light of the creature as it moved, bobbing up and down, likely swimming down the hall towards us. It was probably tracking us the same way I was tracking it; having my abilities was giving it too much of an advantage.

"It's coming closer this way," I said, holding my breath. "It's tracking us with my abilities."

"It should not still have your abilities—it should not even be here. It was destroyed on the plane," Thor said, sounding perplexed.

"I know what I see. And from what I see, that creature has something of mine inside of it." I closed my eyes, trying to focus on it better. It was hard to tell just how far away it was, the eerie color emitting from it coming off a bit fuzzy to me. I realized, with a little horror, that the other energies I saw moving within it were that of the others he stole from. A strange sort of nausea rolled over me at the thought.

"Perhaps they can transfer abilities amongst each other," Thor mused.

"I really hope not. I don't want a bunch of freak alien Annabelles running around. No offense," Tony said. I shook my head.

"I understand."

In a few moments the energy grew stronger, a sure indication that it was upon us already. A metallic scratching at the door confirmed its presence.

"Guess we'd better get ready," Clint said.

I heard Naomi crack her knuckles. "Let's do this."

No one was as prepared as they could have been when the alien pried the door off its hinges, shooting into the room like a bullet and ramming its head into the first target: Natasha. She sailed backwards and hit the wall with a loud crash as the water poured in after it, everyone scattering and almost immediately abandoning the original plan. I saw Naomi leap through the dark before Tony's light went out as he called his entire suit over his body, going after the creature himself. I heard the distinct sound of an arrow hitting the wall, and then a blindingly bright flash of light engulfed the room. Though my physical vision took a blow to the sudden burst of light, and the room was back to pitch black, I was still able to feel everyone's location. Half-thinking, I waded towards Steve. He was tense, conflicted, his aura lined with guilt. It only took a few moments for me to get to him; the water was not as high yet as I thought it was going to be. Had it stopped?

"Don't help," I said as soon as I got close enough, grabbing his arm. "They can handle it."

"I'm not so sure," he said. I hated the fact that I actually agreed with him. As much as I wanted to believe that they'd easily take this creature down, I could clearly feel the struggle in the room, and I feared for their lives. If they were killed by that thing, I couldn't help but blame myself. It was part me, and it was the 'me' part of it that was the most dangerous.

"I wish I could see!" Naomi yelled from across the room, before grunting as another bang was heard against the wall. I silently cursed myself for turning the power off and then left Steve's side, my mind running fast. I felt around in the dark, still keeping my thoughts on the constantly moving energies of the people across the room from me, until my fingers ran across the base of something sitting on a table. The table itself was swaying back and forth with the movement of the water, but the objects on its surface had stayed put. I quickly felt around the shape of the one I had grabbed, concluding that it was a small desk lamp. It was perfect.

I ripped the lamp away from the wall and ran to the center of the room, holding it up over my head and sucking in a deep breath. I could feel warmth running from the core of my body, rising up through the veins in my arms before, miraculously, the lamp flickered on. It bathed the room in light. The bulb clicked a bit as I filled it with more energy than its wattage allowed; I hoped that it would hold out long enough.

I could now clearly see Natasha as she roundhouse kicked the creature across the face and Naomi came up behind it, jabbing her fingers at it rapidly until it collapsed into the waves.

"Thanks for that!" Naomi yelled. I kept the lamp held high. Clint stepped back and held his bow up, closing one eye and aiming a flat-ended arrow at the alien.

"Center of the forehead, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Thor called from the opposite side of the room. Clint nodded once and took a gentle breath in, then released the arrow. It spun across the room and hit the dead center of the alien's forehead, sticking there like a suction cup.

"Get down!" Clint yelled, ducking back. Everyone did the same, and I abandoned the lamp just before the tip of the arrow blew, sending everyone backwards into the water. It was a horribly small space for an explosion to go off, and it triggered waves that rushed over my head and forced water into my mouth, but after the dust had cleared and my ears stopped ringing I was glad to feel that everyone in the room was still alive.

"Is it dead?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," I responded, spitting the water, doing another quick check of the room before nodding needlessly in the dark.

"Everyone all right?" Steve asked. He got a few grunts and grumbles in response.

"Now I can work on getting the power back on, we can stop the water problem, and I can get back to what I was doing," Tony said, as if it was that simple.

"Hold on," I gasped, doing another scan of the room. Where Bruce's energy was once situated there was now a different one completely, bigger, more ominous, less friendly. I could only guess what that meant. I quickly ran to the lamp and picked it up again, flashing it towards the corner where Bruce once stood, surprised that it still worked after having fallen in the water. I would have to praise its wiring later; it illuminated the outline of a large figure, who covered his eyes with one large hand as I shined the light directly on him. He huffed out in anger and brought the hand down in a fist against the wall, making a sizable hole. Luckily, the hold led to the outside, and not into the water-filled hall. The room was ghastly silent as I stood there holding the light up, too scared to move or make a sound.

"Natasha," Steve started softly, "g—"

Before he could finish talking Hulk had reached out and grabbed me, the lamp flinging from my grasp and crashing into the water, plummeting the room into darkness again. I couldn't even muster a scream as he swung me into the wall, my body flopping around like that of a rag doll. I heard someone yell my name but couldn't distinguish who, my mind very quickly getting fuzzy as Hulk tossed me around and rammed me into every surface. My head fell under the water several times, where the liquid burned down my throat and through my nose until I was jerked out of it again. I lost consciousness for a moment as my head collided with the metal door. When I came to, the room echoed with scuffles and yelling as everyone tried their best in the dark to find a solution to this situation. I held in a scream as I heard—and felt—one of my limbs crack, not wanting to startle Hulk into more fury. My body was very quickly becoming numb. Finally, and without warning, Hulk let me go. I hit the wall and crashed into the water below. Grunting and fighting echoed across the surface of the water. I managed to move my neck enough to get my head above water, sucking in a pained breath.

After a few agonizing moments—during which I was in and out of consciousness—someone scooped me up, my body splitting with pain as they lifted me over their shoulder. From what I could see, water was rushing into the room again. The blasts from Tony's suit as he forced Hulk into a corner were enough to illuminate the doorway, where I saw that the large metal door had been forced open and was now letting in profuse amounts of water, swinging back and forth as it rushed in. Thor, who I realized as my holder, lifted his hammer as it lit up in the dark. He whipped it around rapidly, splashing water in every direction as he did. We shot out of the room at—to my body's dismay—an alarming speed, propelling through the water filled hall. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep water from getting in them, though it was already forcing its way up my nose as we rushed through it. I was hardly conscious enough to even realize what was happening until suddenly frigid cold air filled my lungs. It took me a moment to will my eyes open, but when I did I realized that we were outside, above ground.

Even though the sky was overcast with snow-spilling clouds, the light seemed extremely bright on my tired eyes as Thor laid me down on the snow. My body tensed up as the cold hit my skin, my arm throbbing with the chill. I couldn't move. My soaked clothes were already freezing over in the cold, my breath coming out in short, mist-creating spurts.

"I will return," Thor said. He leaped away from my vision, leaving me alone in the thick pile of snow. More flakes fell over my face, heavy and wet. I let my eyes fall shut and tried to relax, hoping I could mend the damage that Hulk had done to my body. I needed to simply lay still and let the soft blue energy welling inside of me wash through my veins and fix what had been broken. It seemed to be my arm that had cracked, my fingers numb as I tried to move them against the snow. I could hardly feel a thing; it was as if my body was one with the bank of snow, my mind already wandering off somewhere above. The mist of my breath warmed my face, but only for a few savory seconds. My lungs were having trouble functioning in the cold air. I slipped back out of consciousness.

When I awoke there was a warm mass beside me, holding me close, tight. I still couldn't feel my limbs, but the center of my body was alive and working. I tilted my head back as best I could and saw the blonde of Clint's hair. He was huddled up beside me, arm around my shoulders, holding me in such a way that I was folded against him. His body was shivering. From what I could tell we were still outside, the snow sitting and continuously collecting in my thick hair, which had also by now frozen over in one big pile. I moved enough to see beyond Clint's body, finding that, though my eyes were having trouble focusing, I could see everyone up and around. Naomi trudged through the snow nearest to us, tapping away at a slim phone that she had propped up in her hands. A little farther away stood Steve, talking with Tony, who was still fully suited. Thor seemed to be shouting at the sky a little ways away, and even farther past him sat Natasha and a very torn up looking Bruce.

"How are you doing?" Clint asked me, voice hushed and stuttered with the cold. His right eye was swollen, already bruising around the skin. He noticed me staring and lightly brushed his hand over the bruise, shaking his head. "Got clocked in the face with an elbow. Not sure whose elbow. Not like it matters. Looks pretty bad, huh?"

"Not that bad," I croaked. There wasn't enough energy in me to clear my throat. It seemed like all I had had gone into healing my arm, which, though still mostly numb, didn't seem to be bothering me anymore.

"You don't have to lie. I can take it."

"I'm being honest."

I sat myself up a bit more as my body came to, though I stayed as close to him as possible for his body heat. The air was frigid, and even more miserable with all the snow. I'd take all the heat I could get.

"Well, you look great, considering," he said. I shook my head at the comment. When I tried to picture myself I imagined a big, frozen mess, bleeding and bruised. Maybe the fact that I wasn't split in two was what was 'great' about my appearance.

"Bruce is okay?" I asked.

"He's alright."

"And we got the creature?"

"I got it." He almost sounded like he was boasting. I suppose he had a right to.

"Were you scared?" he asked again after a moment. When I didn't answer, he continued, "That must have been terrifying. Bruce is beside himself over it, you know."

"I feel bad for him," I responded.

"It's incredible that you keep surviving these things, you know. I hope you're considering joining the team when all this is over. We could use someone like you. Especially if you can manage to turn that healing power of yours on other people." I couldn't catch the groan that escaped my lips in time, getting a strange look from him after it was out.

"It becomes clearer and clearer to me that I'm dangerous and unpredictable. I don't belong here," I said.

"Bruce is dangerous and unpredictable," he pointed out.

"Bruce has his heart in the right place. Bruce has the makings of a hero. I don't, Clint. You can't see what a coward I am—how scared I am to do anything, how obedient I am to the wrong people, all of that. I can't be a hero. I appreciate you thinking I can, but I can't." I wondered why I was saying these things now. I'd been feeling them for a time, but I hadn't exactly articulated it that plainly to anyone yet. Did I want to be here? Yes. It was what I'd always wanted, even as a child. But I was smart enough to know the risk I posed. To imply I could be part of a team was foolish.

Clint stayed quiet, an unsettling silence falling over us. The wind whipped more snow into my face, some of it settling in Clint's hair. He didn't respond. The only gesture he made came a few moments later, when he squeezed my arm tight and pulled me closer. His teeth still chattered as he spoke.

"You're just a kid. It's okay to be scared," he said quietly. This time I was the one who fell silent, my body sinking against his.


	18. Book I Ch 18

We were out in the cold with no plane and no service. I stood now submerged up to my knees in frigid ice and snow, my body violently and uncontrollably shaking. Clint was still huddled up next to me, trying to keep the both of us warm, though I could feel he was shaking almost as bad as I was. The others were desperately trying to contact someone from SHIELD, except for Bruce, who was standing a few feet away and looking miserable after Natasha had left his side. I reached out a hand to him but he only retreated farther, wrapping his arms around himself. Clint pulled me back.

"Leave him. He's afraid he'll Hulk-out again," he said quietly, his breath burning hot against my ear. I leaned closer to him, sinking against his body heat.

"You know it's warmer if you take your clothes off," Tony said, his voice suddenly very loud and close. I turned my head to see the face of the suit, trying to form some spiteful response, if only my shuttering lips would cooperate. What resulted was a strange jumble of sounds, which Tony laughed at and flew off. His thrusters kicked up snow onto my face. My body seized up.

"Idiot," Clint muttered through chattering teeth, tightening his arms on me.

"Hey, need some more heat?" Natasha asked. Clint opened his arm a bit and she tucked herself in next to us.

"Any luck?" Clint looked at her, the fog of his breath blinding all three of us momentarily.

"Not yet. Tony was going to fly out to find civilization, but his power is running low. And Thor can't seem to contact Asgard."

"Great. Of all the places to die…"

"We've survived worse than this."

My eyes drifted around the barren landscape. There was nothing nearby, no structure aside from the pillar that still stood over the base. I wondered if the thing was full of water now—surely it would have to stop at some point. Bruce, still keeping his distance, shivered in a bank of snow. Thor had joined him by now, clearly giving up on his attempts to contact his home. The two would keep each other warm, at least; I didn't think Bruce was too afraid of ripping Thor to pieces. At least, not like he was afraid of hurting the rest of us. Naomi, still fast at work on her phone, had her back against Thor while keeping a safe distance from Bruce. I couldn't tell if she was shaken or just being respectful.

My eyes at last fell on Steve. He stood alone in the snow, his suit forming crystals as the water froze. He didn't look cold from here, but I was sure he was feeling it. Super soldier or not, I was sure he needed warmth like the rest of us.

"Excuse me," I sputtered out, moving away from Natasha and Clint's warm embrace. I felt their eyes on me as I trudged over to Steve, my body aching and sagging like frozen, dead weight.

"We're trying," Steve said as I approached. He assumed I was coming to berate him, but that wasn't my intention. Willing myself to work past my embarrassment, I tucked myself against his torso for warmth. He looked surprised, but placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned into the heat a bit.

"I can go find the nearest town," I said eventually, my voice coming out quieter than expected. He shot me a look.

"You're freezing."

"I can run. I'll warm up." He still looked skeptical. "I want to help," I added. As I swallowed I felt like my spit froze as it trickled down my throat.

"Annabelle, you can't. It's too dangerous," he lectured, furrowing his brow. I tried to stand tall, confident, but the trembling of my body only made me look weaker. "We'll figure a way out of this. We always do," he said, a determined look in his eyes.

"Some things can't be done without sacrifice," I responded sternly, though the words stuttered as they left my quivering lips.

"We don't need a sacrifice."

"You treat me like some fragile annoyance that needs to be kept back and out of the way," I shot back. He blinked in surprise. Then, a bit softer, I continued, "I don't understand what I need to do to prove myself to you."

"Nothing. Annabelle, don't you understand that? I'm just trying to protect you. I do believe in you. I think you've got incredible abilities and incredible enthusiasm. But I've been where you are. Rough past, given a chance to be something more, being thrown into something suddenly that's so different from your world, feeling lost and having to fight with yourself over what could have happened if you had only stayed and listened…I went through it too. I'm just trying to protect you. Can't you understand that?" I swallowed, the snow on my hair suddenly feeling much heavier as soon as the last word left his lips. I felt emotions well up inside of me, forcing tears to my eyes. Yet again, he was causing some kind of reaction in me that was so much stronger than anything else. I shook my head; I couldn't cry now. Later, when everything was resolved and I figured out where and who I was supposed to be, I would cry. Hard.

"Let me help, then," I whispered, barely audible over the snow-filled wind that danced around us. Steve's jaw tightened.

"...Fine."

"Stay here. I'll come back and find you if I'm able to locate someplace safe. If I don't come back in a few hours, just go on without me." I was already formulating the plan in my head. I would check the radius, pushing my abilities out as far beyond me as I could. If there was any electricity out there, I would feel it. And when I did, when I checked to make sure that I could find some place warm and safe, I would come back and escort everyone there. It was the least I could do, after all the trouble I'd brought. Even if the aliens weren't my doing, I had caused plenty of other issues.

"I'll come looking for you," Steve said sternly.

"It'd be a waste of time. Look, I'm not an Avenger. The world doesn't need me. If I don't come back, no one will miss me." I was serious about this as I stared up at him, trying to keep my emotions at bay. It was true, of course. All I had was my father, and he certainly would feel better of if I was gone. I had no purpose here, and if I could give myself to save this group of wonders, I would. No questions asked.

"I'd miss you," Clint said. He and Natasha, still intertwined, trudged up to us. "You're just the kind of interesting we needed around here."

"I'd miss you too. I didn't know I needed a girlfriend until now." Natasha flashed me a smile, but a lump formed in my throat. "And Steve would definitely miss you," she added. I glanced at Steve, whose face had softened a bit. He didn't comment, however.

I sucked in a deep breath, feeling more and more emotional by the second. I'd never felt wanted before. At least, not like this. But was this what it really felt like?

"I'm still going to go," I spoke slowly, "I want to have the chance to save you guys if I can."

"Will you let me come with you?" Steve asked, his facial expression hardening once again. He was back to business.

"If you can keep up," I said. I hadn't meant it as an insult, but the twitch of his brow made it clear it had been.

"Ooooh," Clint sang from behind me, slapping his frost-covered knee.

"You might have to slow down a bit," Steve admitted, smiling a subtle smile. It was enough to send a rush of warmth through my face, which burned even in the cold.

"Remember to come back if something goes wrong," Natasha said, then pulled something from her pocket and handed it to Steve. He tucked it in his own securely.

When he noticed my staring, he explained, "Tracking device."

"So I can at least see where you guys go. Just in case." She pulled her sleeve back to show a high-tech-looking watch, a little sensor light flashing at the top. I nodded, the cold creeping up on me again. It was strange how it came in waves, pulses almost. I wondered if anyone else was experiencing it like this, or if it was another odd side effect of my abilities.

"Let's get going," Steve called, turning and waving over his shoulder at Natasha and Clint, who waved back in almost a salute. I trudged along behind him, my legs slow in the thick snow.

"I'm going to start running," I yelled up to him, trying to lift my legs more against the snow.

"I'll follow as best I can," he replied.

I inhaled and channeled my energy into my legs, like I had done back at the tower, picking up speed. That day had felt like so long ago, but the feeling and the rush of running once again stunned me with familiarity. The warm cloud of my breath hit me in the face. It wasn't long before I had picked up almost enough speed to leap in bounds over the packed snow, which was my intention. We wouldn't make it far if I couldn't get past the thick, frozen snow. I tried to focus on finding something beyond the rapid, blinding shower of ice that beat against my face, though there didn't seem to be anything within miles of where we left everyone. I could feel that Steve was lagging a little behind me and slowed my pace to let him catch up.

"You look like a deer," he said once he was within earshot.

"I don't know how to take that," I responded.

"I don't mean it in a bad way, of course. Deer are…elegant." I'd roll my eyes if I wasn't afraid they'd get frozen in the back of my eye sockets. "See anything?"

"Not yet. I can't feel anything around here. It's all just—" I stopped talking. Something in the distance came up on my energy radar, a small speck of light just bright enough to be noticed. "There's something over there," I yelled over the wind.

"Lead the way."

I bolted off in a different direction, trying to narrow my focus on the strange and sudden spot of energy that was located far beyond the waves of snow. The packed snow seemed to be thinning out ahead of me, to my relief. The relief didn't last long, however, because I realized a second too late that the snow had thinned because there was a large pool of water out in the open. I couldn't stop fast enough, and plunged into it. Excruciating pain singed my skin, the water boiling against my body the moment it made contact. Steam rolled up around me as I pulled my head up out of the water, my body not cooperating from the drastic change of temperature. For a moment, I was completely dazed. The billowing mist that rose off of the heated water made it hard for me to see anything, and when I tried to move I found that my limbs were too shocked to obey. My skin seemed to bubble under the surface. I was tugged back out into the cold very quickly, my skin still sweltering, a scream lodged in the back of my throat. I couldn't get it out. It melted with any other words that might have escaped, coming out in more of a sigh as my sweltering skin hit the snow. Steam rose off of my body. I didn't want to look to see what the damage was, squeezing my eyes shut to recuperate.

"Must be some sort of hot spot—hot spring—something—I…" I heard Steve take a stuttered breath as he spoke. Then, after a moment: "Are you okay?"

"Give me a minute," I sputtered, trying to muster up the strength to self-heal yet again. I hoped it didn't have a limit—it seemed I wasn't careful enough to keep myself out of trouble for two seconds.

"I tried to grab you—I should have noticed before," Steve said, his words a bit fast. I couldn't respond, letting the cold of the snow soothe my skin as much as it could. From water to Hulk to boiling spring, today was not my day. In fact, things had pretty much been going that way since I'd arrived. Maybe my abilities came with bad luck.

I took a few moments to myself, trying to undo all the damage that the scorching water had done. It took a while for me to realize, though, that I was far too tired to fix all of it. I had already done so much with my powers today, and they no longer seemed to be cooperating.

"There's a structure over there," I said, painfully nodding my head to the side. "I can feel it. It's small, but it has power. I don't know how, I don't know why, but it's there. Go find it. Then go back and get everyone else. You guys can hide out there." I winced a bit as I finished speaking. I could feel my skin starting to peel already, though I still didn't dare look at it.

"No." Before I could protest Steve had scooped me up, heading off in the direction I had indicated. His hands hurt as they gripped at my skin, or whatever sorry state it was in, but he kept on moving. He trekked around the steaming lake, pushing past the wind and the snow until some faint lights were seen across the blizzard. It seemed like forever before we ended up at the front door to a small, wood cottage, two lights shining brightly on each side of it. Steve didn't even knock, breaking down the door with one kick and taking me in.


	19. Book I Ch 19

I found myself generally unaware of what was happening for what seemed to be the hundredth time today. When I had enough of my senses to notice what was going on, I found that I was wrapped snugly in a blanket. My arms were doubly wrapped in white cloth. I vaguely remembered someone standing over me and wrapping me in them, though I was too tired to pull up the memory correctly. A small fire was lit in a stone fireplace several feet from me, far enough away that it wasn't affecting my burned skin, and between the couch and the fire sat a worn old table. I sat up slowly and propped myself as best I could against the small armrest behind my head. My arms and legs stung as I moved.

"Well look here. Desert princess is moving," a voice called from behind me, one that I didn't recognize. It was male, and a strange accented twang lined his words. I tried to turn my head in his direction but was met with a searing pain around my neck. For now, looking at his aura would have to do.

"No, no," the voice said, "don't be moving just for me. You got sum nasty burns, you do. I love that there hot lake, but I s'pose it is kinda startling to sum'un who hasn't' been around here before." A large wrinkled hand passed by my field of vision, setting a chipped glass mug on the rickety table in front of me. "Drink that. It'll make you feel better. Your big boyfriend fellow is in the other room try'na call your friends."

"He should go back out and find them instead. Trying to call them isn't going to do anything," I croaked out.

"I reckon he wanted to stay here with you. Should'a seen him carrying you in here like you was his queen." I couldn't figure out where this man was from; his accent was all over the place. Sometimes he sounded British, Ukrainian, American, or some other part of the world that I didn't recognize.

I took a deep breath in, my body aching.

"I'm not a queen," I said, slowly reaching for the cup and bringing it to my lips. The contents were cold, but almost felt warm as they trickled down my throat after my first sip. I must have looked surprised, because the man let out a great, bellowing laugh that seemed to shake the small house.

"That's something special there. Helps the body fight off bacteria. With the condition your skin is in, figured you'd need it."

I thanked him as I lightly touched a few fingers to my cheek, wondering just how bad the damage really was.

"Oh, don't worry, you're still pretty as a peach—like your face wasn't even touched. Lucky break, there. Would'a been a shame."

"Annabelle." Steve came into the room from one of the connecting halls, crouching down in front of me. "Let me see." He gently held my chin and moved my face, examining each side before checking my exposed arms. "Good, you're looking better already. The way you looked before, I was worried." He took a moment before standing, stepping away so that I could see the fire again.

"Did you manage to contact someone?" I asked.

"Yeah, Natasha. I turned the tracking device on and off to speak with her in Morse code."

"Smart."

"I'm not just muscle, you know. I have brains too."

"I'm sure Tony would have something to say about that." We shared a slight amused smile, and for a moment I almost forgot the stinging pain of my skin. After that moment was gone, however, the pain was very quick to come back.

"How many more've you got coming?" the man from behind me asked.

"Six," Steve replied.

"Gonna be quite packed in here."

"Thank you for offering your home. We won't stay for long," Steve assured.

"How do you survive out here?" I asked, trying again to crane my neck to get a good look at him. I could see a few scraggly white hairs from what appeared to be a massive beard, but I couldn't see much else. His aura was dim with what I assumed to be old age, though I couldn't be certain.

"The hot pool out there's what I use for water and electricity. Have a whole system going. I also have a room dedicated to growin' lots of plants and edibles. And occasionally some big critters will come around here. I need my protein too, though I do feel a'bit bad killing them when they come all the way out here."

"Incredible survival skills," I commented. I turned a bit more, getting a broader view of the heavily bearded man. He had some sort of red colored wrap around his head, two little raising eyes peeking out from under it. His face was worn and wrinkled, just like his hand, but his eyes glinted and seemed to smile as he looked at me.

"S'just the way I live. Nothin' amazing about survival."

"Why don't you try to go find civilization?"

"I kinda like being alone. After you get used to the silence, it's not so bad." I nodded a little and looked down at my peeling hands. I was all too familiar with the silence after all those lonely years following my mother's death, but I'd never grown fond of it like this man apparently had. I wanted to be around people—I needed to be around people. Maybe that was why my father's parties, awful as they sometimes were, were somewhat refreshing. I had to do awful things to entertain his guests, but at least there were people to entertain at all. A weird sense of sentimentality came over me as I thought of them.

There came a great few knocks at the door—which had apparently been quickly mended after Steve kicked it down—along with a nasty snarl that remotely sounded like a bear. I, however, with my abilities slowly regenerating, could easily tell that it was Tony being his usual jackass self. Steve ripped the door open and gave Tony a somewhat irritated look. He was still completely protected by his Iron Man suit, but the others behind him—minus Thor—looked nothing short of freezing.

"Come in, come in," the old man said, pulling himself up and walking over to the door. He was a skinny man, rickety, his beard making his head look huge on his tiny body. Regardless, he seemed to move quite quickly and gracefully as he ushered everyone in.

"Cozy," Natasha commented, examining the small entrance room. I gave a weak wave, my arm stinging with the movement.

"…Annabelle, what happened?" Bruce was suddenly by my side, looking concerned. His hair looked almost frozen to the top of his head, little ice crystals on his eyelashes. His glasses were tucked in his shirt pocket, the lenses completely fogged over.

"I fell in a lake," I said slowly, grateful that he was actually talking to me. The way he had been before, so reserved and almost scared to even make contact with me, had really made me concerned. I liked Bruce. I didn't want him to feel like he couldn't be around me in fear of hurting me. Though the experience with Hulk had been terrifying, I knew the difference between the two. I suppose it helped that I could see through to his energy, and differentiate, mostly, where his ended and Hulk's began. They were not the same.

"Yeah, that one out there kind of took us by surprise as well. Strange place to have a hot spring." He lowered himself onto the couch next to me. "May I see?" I nodded and held my arms out for him, which he gently took. He began unwrapping the bandages, being careful to replace them one by one as he made his observations.

"I've already started regenerating a bit," I started, "but I think I've regenerated one too many times today, so it's going a bit slow for now." He looked down in shame, and I quickly changed the subject. "This man has been living here for who knows how long, surviving off of that lake and his own wits. Isn't that something?"

"Mmm, pretty impressive," he said quietly, focusing on my arms. "I think you should take a cold bath, Annabelle. Might help ease the pain. And maybe if you relax you'll be able to heal quicker. Maybe. I'm…still not really sure how you work."

"No one is sure," Thor said, coming around from behind the couch, a large, steaming mug in hand. "You are an enigma."

"Thank you," I said halfheartedly.

"Move over," Tony threw himself over the back of the couch, now out of his armor, pushing Bruce away from me and sitting in his spot. His rash movement sent a shock of pain through my body, and I bit down hard on my lip.

"Tony," Steve snapped, sitting on the opposite side of me. I wasn't entirely sure how three grown men with me squished in the middle were able to fit on such a small, old couch, but I was too stiff to question it. Bruce made an uncomfortable sound and quickly wiggled his way into a standing position, hurriedly leaving the room.

"I'll talk to him," Natasha said, following after. Clint joined us, though respectfully sat on the floor with his legs crossed to keep from crowding us any further. He made a satisfied sound as he held his hands out to the fire.

"What a day, huh?" Naomi asked, taking a seat at one of the wooden barstools that were pushed up to the kitchen counter, a few feet behind the couch. A very small bout of anger washed over me as I examined her presence, still left over from earlier, but I quickly focused my mind on my breathing. I couldn't be mad at her. Even if she and Steve did have something, it wasn't my place. _Though it should be your place,_ I thought. I pushed this thought away as well.

"We'll get this all figured out soon," Clint said.

"This is how your life usually is, is it not?" Thor asked, sipping his drink again. "It is exciting, in my honest opinion."

"Yeah, exciting. Sure," Clint mumbled. "I need to retire…"

Everyone fell silent and I watched the sparks crackle from the fire, mesmerized for a moment as I stared into it. There was something about fire that was so relaxing, the way it swayed and danced as it licked the edges of the rock fireplace keeping it contained. Every 'pop' released a small explosion of ash and tiny fire crystals. It was in such contrast to the snow outside that I almost let out a short, almost hysteric laugh. It had been too long of a day.

"Hey, can I see your power source? I need to tinker a bit to charge my suit so I can get us going and out of your hair," Tony said, facing the old man.

"Sure thing. Follow me." I felt him leave the room, Tony standing and exiting as well.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked me, looking over at me with concern. I tore my eyes from the fire and shrugged my shoulders very slightly, trying not to bother my skin.

"I think I'll take that cold bath now," I said. He nodded.

"Hopefully Tony can get his suit going pretty soon so we can all get out of here," Clint mumbled.

"I am sure he will figure it out," Thor replied, sounding confident.

I slowly lifted myself off the couch and stumbled towards the corner of the room, where a narrow hall was connected. I couldn't tell where the bath actually was, but I was sure with enough looking I'd be able to find it.

"Let me help," Steve said, suddenly beside me, gently taking my arm. He lead me around the hall, checking different doors and rooms before finding the bathroom, which was just as small and compact as the rest of the house. The tub though, surprisingly, was a lot cleaner than I expected it to be. It was a good thing the old man seemed to be tidy—I wouldn't dare take a bath in a tub that was caked with dust or mold. No way.

"Thank you," I said as I turned to Steve, giving him a grateful smile. "I think I've got it from here."

"I don't want to leave you alone in here," he said slowly. "You're not well. If you somehow slipped or got submerged in water, or—"

"Steve," I cut him off, "I'm not a child."

"I know that. I wasn't saying…" He sighed. "…Look. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I'd like to stay in here. I'd face away, of course. But then I'd be here in case anything happened."

"Geez, and here Tony is always saying you're modest and shy about this stuff…" I mumbled, jokingly, though that familiar heat rushed to my cheeks at the thought. Why was I so flustered? I was certain men had seen me undressed before—or, at least, I thought I was. My fuzzy memories made it difficult for me to place any specific memory where I'd been in a situation like that. It was funny; I couldn't even remember when the last time someone had touched me that way was, even though I was certain it had happened. I knew my role at my father's gatherings, but I couldn't recall a single instance. Maybe that was a good thing.

"…I am. Modest, I mean," Steve started, "Usually. Normally. I mean, I'm not exactly—when it comes to women, I—But this is a safety issue. When it comes to safety, there's no excuse." I could have sworn that I saw his cheeks flush pink, which made the butterflies fluttering in my stomach go ballistic.

"Okay," I said quietly, trying not to sound as embarrassed as I felt. "You can stay. For safety reasons."

"I'll sit right here," Steve plopped himself down on the lid of the toilet, turning away from the tub, his massive frame looking almost comical inside such a tiny space. I waited a few moments, making sure there was no way he could see me before carefully and slowly peeling my damaged clothing off, my skin stretching uncomfortably and painfully as I did so. Being careful to remove my wraps, I folded them and set them aside for later use. I ran the tub, making sure to keep the water cool, feeling awkward as I stood with my back to Steve, my arms wrapped around myself. My skin was surely a mess—if he had to see me as I was, see my skin, I didn't want it to be like this.

As soon as the bath was full I turned off the water and lowered myself into it, the cool water immediately relieving. I laid my head back against the tiled wall and let my eyes fall shut. Though my body panicked ever so slightly as the water rolled over it, a muscular reaction to the earlier events of this day, I tried to allow the coolness to soothe me.

"It's not always this bad, you know," Steve said after a few minutes. "These kinds of invasions only happen every once in a while. So, don't think that if you joined us it would constantly be like this."

"Are you trying to convince me to stay once this is all over?" I asked. This was too similar to what Clint had been saying earlier, and I didn't want to have to explain myself again, especially not to Steve—and especially not when I was sitting exposed in a tub. It would be hard to convince anyone I was dangerous when I looked like this.

"I just think we could use someone like you around. You seem to do pretty well at diffusing our internal conflicts, and your abilities are incredibly powerful and would be a big help."

"You know my father is probably never going to stop coming after me," I said, taking a different argumentative approach.

"We'll make sure you stay safe—that's what we do. We keep each other safe. We wouldn't let him hurt you anymore."

"Is it bad that I almost want to go back?" I lowered my voice a bit, half hoping he wouldn't hear me. He took a moment to respond, so I almost thought he hadn't.

"No. I think that's normal. Sometimes abusers have a certain effect on people that makes them feel like they need to stay, or that they're worthless. I don't know if you're feeling that or not. If you are, it's not true." Hearing the word 'abuser' made me tense up. Yes, my father had abusive tendencies. But was he defined by that? Was he really that person? I watched the water roll up around my slightly exposed knees, conflicted.

"You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. And I was in the military," he continued. I heard a smile beneath his words, a fondness. "Just don't completely dismiss the idea of staying with us, please. We've grown to love you."

"Oh, you love me?" I tried to shift the tone of the conversation, still feeling uncomfortable at his accusation towards my father. I wasn't sure why it was so uncomfortable—I'd known it was true, hadn't I?

I opened one eye to look at him, holding my breath. His frame noticeably stiffened.

"I—I said we—I meant—"

"Calm down, I'm teasing," I said, though somewhere inside I was pleased he'd been so affected. My cheeks still burned with warmth. My earlier animosity towards him had all but faded, replaced with a warm, comfortable sort of passion. I closed my eye again, lowering my face somewhat under the water to try to cool off my cheeks. Those butterflies in my stomach sure were active.

We didn't talk for the remainder of my bath, which came somewhat to my relief. There was an awkward tension whenever I talked to Steve, though sometimes I was sure it was only one sided. I'd had this stupid crush on him for the longest time, and now that I was around him it was hard to shake, though I so desperately tried. Steve had always been the thing that had given me confidence against my father, and the fact that the real Steve was doing the same really tugged on my emotions. Still, I almost had to fight the urge to defend my father, even after all he'd done.

"Hand me a towel?" I asked, sitting up a bit out of the water. He leaned over and took a folded towel that was sitting on the counter, examining it.

"I don't know if this is clean…"

"It doesn't matter." I reached my hand out for it, and he nearly threw it in the water trying to get it to me without looking. It took me a few tries to comfortably wrap the towel around my skin, which did seem to be looking at least a little better.

"I could use a hand. You can look now."

He hesitated for a moment and then turned, letting out a small breath of relief when he saw me standing and fully unexposed. He offered an arm to me, which I used to get myself up over the lip of the tub and back onto the tile floor.

"Are you going to wear what you've been wearing?" he asked. I looked down at the mangled pile of clothes I had left on the floor, my bra very thankfully hidden underneath the sweatpants.

"It's all I've got."

"We could ask the man living here if he has anything he could lend. Don't know if any of it would fit, though. He seems pretty small."

"If he had a button up shirt and maybe some more sweatpants that would be plenty enough. I'd feel bad taking it, though. Surely there is no market here for him to replace it." I had to wonder how he got any clothes at all all the way out here.

"I'll see what I can find. Are you okay staying and sitting here?" I nodded and sat myself down, grabbing my wraps and setting them in my lap. I unfolded and started on reapplying them to my arms, as carefully, and gently, as possible.

"…thank you, Steve," I said as he headed towards the door, "For everything."

"Don't thank me. Hang in there." With that he left the room and I stayed put, taking a deep breath to finally calm those butterflies flitting around inside of me as I wrapped my arms, pulling the cloth around and around, trying to focus my mind elsewhere.


	20. Book I Ch 20

"I'm heading out," Tony said at the door, the frigid wind blowing past him and chilling the room. He was fully suited and charged, after successfully using the limited resources here. The plan was for him to take off and fly to the nearest SHIELD facility to get a jet, then come back to pick the rest of us up. Then, after we'd flown back to the base, we'd get a team together and discuss our next plan of action while Tony used the labs to finally finish what he'd explained as 'special suits.' They were meant to prevent the enemy from sapping any abilities, and, according to him, he was almost done. Tony seemed positive that they would work, but I felt a little skeptical. I didn't doubt his genius; I just didn't want to be without my abilities again. Having them taken from me was like suddenly losing my sight, or hearing. I'd have loved to prevent that as much as possible.

We said our goodbyes as Tony flew out into the snowstorm. I lost sight of him after only a few moments, the storm carrying him away. The heat from the fire quickly warmed the room back up as soon as the door was sealed shut, and I took my seat back on the couch. I would have liked to stand and stare out the window, the wispy, ice crystal-lined wind somewhat soothing, but my legs were complaining far too much for me to have a choice. There was no denying that my skin was getting drastically better, but it was far from being perfect again. Just like the previous scars on my body, I was sure these scars would be visible for the rest of my life; just another reminder of my mistakes.

Steve sat himself down next to me, which wasn't surprising considering he hadn't left my side since the lake incident. Tony had cracked a few jokes at first, but Steve didn't back off. No matter how many times I insisted I was fine he still continued to help me with everything and follow me around like some loyal dog. I was sure part of him felt guilty, like me getting burned was somehow his fault. It wasn't, of course, but he probably wouldn't listen if I told him that.

I gave him a sideways glance and pulled on the sleeves of my new sweater, turning my eyes to the crackling fire. The old man had given me the sweater as well as a pair of slacks that had been his wife's. The slacks fit surprisingly well, though the sweater was clearly not made for someone with chest dimensions like mine. With every new shirt that I had to squeeze myself into I felt more and more self conscious. I was grateful for what I had been given none the less, glad I didn't have to spend this time in a towel that was constantly in danger of slipping off. That was the last thing I needed right now. Though the sweater was a bit scratchy, I was glad for the coverage. The wraps on my arms helped—somewhat.

I wanted to ask about the man's wife, though something told me that I shouldn't bring it up. She obviously wasn't around anymore, and I felt so horribly awkward discussing the death of a loved one. Not to mention, it made me a little emotional.

"You look so thoughtful," Steve said, nudging my shoulder. "Worried about Stark?"

"Oh, honestly, I wasn't even thinking about that," I admitted, biting down on my lip and shifting my eyes over to him. "Does that make me horrible? Of course I hope he'll be okay. But I kind of just...have this strong feeling that he will be." Steve chuckled.

"Yeah. I have that feeling too."

We spent several hours in that cabin waiting before Tony came back. Clint had drifted off to sleep in an armchair in the corner of the room, his chest softly rising and falling as the occasional snore slipped out of his mouth. He nearly leaped out of his chair when Tony finally forced the door open, out of his suit, yelling his arrival.

"About time," Naomi mumbled from one of the stools by the kitchen. Natasha grunted in agreement.

"Did you get it?" Steve asked. Tony gave him a sarcastic snort, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Please. Of course I did. While you were here all snuggled with Annabelle, while Clint was snoozing, and while Naomi was eating all of this kind gentleman's food," he paused and pointed at Naomi, who had a mouth full of what looked to be kale, "I was out getting business done. Let's get going."

"So abrupt," Naomi mumbled through her kale stuffed mouth.

"I'll get Bruce," Natasha said, standing. He had been hiding in one of the back rooms since Tony had left, assuring us it would be safer for everyone.

"It'll be quiet here once you all leave," the old man said, wiggling his nose a little so that his facial hair swished back and forth.

"Won't you be lonely?" I asked, looking back at him with concern. He let out a hardy laugh.

"No no, princess, I'll be just fine. Been livin' here alone for quite some time. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't be here."

"Right. Of course." I gave him a small smile. "Best of luck."

"T'you as well. Figure you'll be needin' it more."

"You got that right," Clint muttered. "Thanks for letting us crash."

"Yes, thank you so much," Bruce said, entering from the hall with Natasha. He fumbled around with his glasses and a cleaning cloth, looking a little agitated.

"Was my pleasure. Not every day a bunch o' super-humans barge into my home. Will be quite the story to tell." To who? I wondered, but kept my mouth shut. I followed the others as they filed out of the house, all giving their thanks as they passed. The man was all smiles behind that big beard of his, his dark eyes twinkling. It was hard closing the door behind me, knowing I'd most likely never see that kind old face again. I hated goodbyes.

Clint helped lift me up into the new jet, which I was less than enthusiastic about considering the many issues we seemed to have with the jets in the past.

"Let us hope this one gets us to our destination without falling apart," Thor commented, as if reading my mind. "Your mortal contraptions are so fragile."

"None of them would break if I built them," Tony bragged, moving past us to go to the front of the jet.

"You know, I'm not sure I missed him when he was gone," Clint said, flopping himself down onto the metal bench beside me.

"Oh, Clint, that's cold," Natasha joked, a wide grin on her face.

"My feelings are hurt," Tony added, yelling back to us.

"You can't win, Clint," I said, amused.

"I know. Everyone picks on me. What am I, the community joke?"

"Yes." Natasha smirked. Clint playfully punched her side.

Steve got in last, sitting across from me just before Tony fired up the engines and took us into the air. My stomach lurched as we shot through the sky at speeds a little fast for my comfort, the snow and ice cracking against the glass windshield until we got high enough to get out of it. It sputtered and jumped several times from the wind currents beneath us, which made this trip arguably the worst so far. Luckily, though, we didn't have long until we descended, a large facility coming into view, which I could only see if I stretched my neck and leaned against Clint to see out the front. Maybe part of the reason these jets were so horrible were because they had no 'passenger' windows. I realized these were most likely military planes of some sort, but it would have been a nice touch in my opinion. Who said soldiers couldn't enjoy the view?

After we landed it seemed like forever until we actually made it inside the building, which was warm and spacious. Being cooped up for those few days, both underground and in that tiny cabin, the freedom of this place felt relieving.

"Fury will be arriving shortly," a female agent informed us, dressed in formal business attire. "Naomi, you're needed at the New York base. They'll be sending Kathrine to be here in your place."

"Roger that." Naomi turned and saluted the group. "See you crazies later. Best of luck." She ran off before I could even get a word in, leaving me with my mouth half through forming the word 'goodbye.' The bitter part of me was glad to see her go.

"We don't need Kathrine," Steve said to the woman, looking serious. "We've got it under control."

"Sorry, Captain Rogers, she's also coming here for her own safety. There are many good reasons for her to be here."

"Understood," he mumbled a bit.

"Do you have something against her?" I asked as soon as the agent had left. I thought back to him smashing the object she had given me and give him a curious look. The anger had passed; now I only wanted to know what was happening in his brain.

He sighed.

"It's not that—it's not her. It's her intentions."

"And what are her intentions?" I asked. His jaw tightened. When he didn't answer, I continued, "Then I'll just ask her myself when she gets here. I need to talk to her anyway. She has a lot of questions I need answered."

"What questions?"

"A lot. None of them your concern." I felt bad being abrupt with him like this after all he had done for me, but if Kathrine knew something about me that I couldn't remember, that took priority. I needed to figure myself out before I could even think about getting close with anyone else. Regaining my memories was my primary concern. Kathrine had implied that she knew a way to do that.

"Fine." Steve looked concerned, almost, but his facial expression was hard. Something in my chest tugged painfully with that look.

"Oh, here they are, hello!" An accented, soft voice called across the room, catching my attention. A small girl, looking barely over eighteen, trotted over to us. She was wearing a lab coat and big, clear goggles, a clipboard perched in her arms. "You must be Annabelle. My name is Jemma Simmons. Lucky me to be put at this base, because here you are! And all the Avengers. Which is completely baffling to me. Oh, I promised myself I wouldn't bother any of them...but…" Her eyes shifted over to Steve, who was examining her curiously. Her face reddened, deep in color, like a tomato.

"What do you need with Annabelle?" he asked, keeping his face straight. She made a strange squeaking sound and tucked her light hair behind her ear.

"Not much, really, I was just told to come ask for her. Pretty sure it'll just be some blood tests, scans, things like that."

"Why?" I questioned, suddenly feeling defensive. I didn't really feel like getting poked and prodded right now. That hit too close to home, with all my father had done to me. Seems I spent my whole life being poked and prodded.

"Oh, I—I'm not sure why. See, I'm new here. Just finished my time at the academy, actually. They don't tell me much, just order me around. Tell me what to do and who to get and what not." She shifted her eyes around nervously, looking even younger.

"I guess I have time to kill," I said slowly, though I wasn't all that sure. Our plans were still up in the air. And I wanted to go where everyone else was going. "Is this really necessary?"

"I'd assume so. I think they're just trying to be safe. They like to know everything about gifted people like yourself. And your file is surprisingly inconclusive. I only glanced at it, but it seemed pretty empty compared to some of the other files I've viewed. Not that I go around looking through files...no, no, that's not my job. That would be intrusive. Although I do get curious—"

"Let's go get this done," I interrupted her, feeling a bit irritable. This one seemed to have a nervous talking problem, which I'd have dealt with politely if it wasn't for the pain pulsing through my legs with every second she wasted babbling. Though the burns had healed significantly by now, they were still bothering me.

"I'll come," Steve said.

"Oh, I'm sure that won't be necessary. In fact, they did ask for her alone. Surely you understand, Captain Rogers. Steve—Captain Rogers." She visibly swallowed, sweat beading on her forehead. She looked back at me, taking a deep breath and smiling gingerly to shroud her embarrassment. "Off we go, then."

"Right."

I followed her as she scurried off through on of the side doors, giving a half wave to Steve over my shoulder as I did. He was looking more and more peeved by the second, which I was actually glad to get away from. It was very clear he didn't exactly trust all that SHIELD was, and knew something about what they had planned for me that he wasn't fond of. I didn't want to know what those plans were. As far as I was concerned, they could do anything to me, anything at all, and it wouldn't be worse than what I had gone through with my father back at home.

I still felt conflicted on where I should go after all of this was over, whether I should take up the offer to join them or go back home where I surely belonged. Some part of me was hoping that the answer would come to me loud and clear if I just waited for it.

"Just in here, please." Simmons ushered me into a large medical room, several nurses standing by, doing their work quietly. I was shown to a bed hidden behind a white curtain, sitting myself up on it and trying not to take notice of the many tools and needles they had laying on a nearby table. Simmons left my side and hurried out of the room, still clutching her clipboard, saying she was going to get someone more certified for the job. I didn't bother asking about what that 'job' was. I had to wonder if this was what Fury had first come to me for—he had mentioned the alien invasion very briefly then, but had that just been to get me to come in for tests?

It took several minutes for someone else to show up, a tall man with dark skin and a kind smile.

"Now, don't worry,"—he said as he pulled the curtain back into place, looking over a few of the intimidating tools to my side—"we're not doing anything extensive. You're just such an anomaly. We're so excited to finally have you here to do some tests."

"Finally?" I asked, wondering how fast word had spread about me. Hadn't it only been a week or so since the accident? I supposed with SHIELD, when it came to people with new abilities, word traveled fast.

"You've been so out of reach, and we've never had the chance to really look into what makes you tick. Excuse me if I sound a little too excited. Scientists like me obsess over this stuff. Well, I'm sure you know. Your father has done some great work in the field." I furrowed my brow, sitting up a bit more on my bed as he talked.

"He's really not that big of a deal," I said, somewhat spitefully. Clearly, though word had spread about me, no one seemed to realize just how cruel my father was. Then again, he was good at charming. He had me believing whatever he wanted me to for twenty three years of my life. Even admitting to myself that he was a jerk seemed wrong.

"I've heard he does have a temper. I suppose you've seen more of that than the rest of us," the man continued, walking over and very suddenly jabbing a needle into my arm. I flinched, but he didn't seem apologetic. "He really has done some great things, though. And how he managed you...that's been truly amazing."

"Managed?" I asked, my irritation growing more intense. The man ignored me.

"And we've been dying to get our hands on you since you were young, but Kathrine insisted we should let you be. She never has been a fan of science. It's a shame."

"What do you mean 'since I was young'?" I winced as he pulled the needle out of my arm, then stuck another one in. He sure seemed to be taking a lot of blood, but I didn't notice much. This man, like Kathrine and the others, knew something about me that I did not. Why would I have been interesting at a young age? Hadn't I only just become interesting?

"Hello?" I leaned closer to him, wondering if he had even heard me. It appeared that he didn't, because he still didn't answer, only sticking another needle in the place of the last one. I clenched my teeth.

"That's enough," a familiar voice demanded, and after a moment Kathrine ripped back the curtain and glared at the man. "Let her go. You've taken more than enough. Get out of here."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, pulling the final needle out of my skin and packing the last bottle into a little case he had brought with him. He closed it and gave her a strange smile before leaving the two of us. It had all happened so fast that my brain was still processing it. Did Kathrine have that much authority? With the enthusiasm of that scientist, I was sure it would take a lot of arguing to get him away from me.

"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?" Kathrine asked, examining my arm, which was already bruising from the rough handling. Despite this concern, she seemed almost surprised to see me. It almost seemed a disappointed sense of surprise, though her energy was fast moving and I couldn't read the emotion before it was gone.

"No, I'm fine."

There was a curious air about her, and her energy seemed to be relaxing after undergoing a strange shift when she'd come in the room.

"Good, good. I told him not to do anything before I got here. Scientists are so impatient and greedy." She made a somewhat disgusted face, examining the remaining tools that the man had left. "They're always trying to get blood from me. They're always doing their stupid little tests, trying to learn more about things that are impossible to understand." She turned her dark eyes to me finally, smiling softly. "It's good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same. But I'm honestly very confused," I responded slowly. She nodded once.

"As you should be. I'm sorry it's taken this long to get you to a place where we can talk. And, actually, let's not talk here. There's a nice lounge a few doors away from here, if you'd like." She offered her hand, which I hesitantly took, to pull myself up off the bed. Once again I felt that there was something so familiar about Kathrine, and I found myself trusting her more than I'd trusted anyone here at SHIELD so far. So, I let her lead me to the lounge without a single complaint.

"The object you gave me got

"Ask me anything," she said as soon as we sat down. There were so many questions I needed answers to that I didn't even know where to begin.

"How do I know you?" I asked, starting somewhere slow before I delved into the deeper questions.

"I'm your case worker. Every gifted individual has one. Usually you're assigned a non-gifted case worker, but this was a...special circumstance. My abilities make me useful for these sorts of things."

"How long have you been my case worker?"

"Around twelve or thirteen years, I think."

My heart seemed to catch in my chest as she said it. There was no use doing calculations for what she said—this shocking information couldn't be explained in any other way besides what I was slowly realizing.

"Which means I was gifted before the accident." I said, more of a statement as things clicked in my head. I held my breath, looking at her. The silence between the few seconds it took her to respond was agonizing.

"Yes."


	21. Book I Ch 21

This shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did, considering that I had suspected something like this after hearing all of the strange comments everyone made about me, but something in me was so shocked that I suddenly felt sick. So it was true. I'd possessed these strange abilities of mine for a long time, and they weren't a result of the explosion. In fact, it was probably due to my abilities that I even survived the explosion in the first place. But something caused me to forget them, and I had a strong feeling it was something my father did.

"How?" I asked slowly, quietly, trying desperately to pull up a memory of my abilities from before. I wasn't successful.

"You were born with them. The way we've heard it, your mother was struck by lightning when you were in the womb. There hasn't been any real evidence that the lightning truly was what caused it, though. Many have thought maybe you were a mutant, and Professor Xavier should be called. Some insist that it was the lighting. Some assume you're inhuman. But no one is quite sure."

"What do you think?"

"I think you're very special. And deserve to be treated as such. When I heard about you, I openly volunteered to be your case worker. No one was really sure about it until your first incident. Then everyone seemed happy to put me on the case."

"Incident?" I swallowed. Kathrine nodded her head slowly.

"You had a few stability issues. Parts of you that you couldn't control. You put one of your father's paid workers in the hospital after getting upset. SHIELD decided it was best for me to step in then."

"I put them in the hospital?" I began to feel even sicker as I asked. Kathrine looked at me sympathetically.

"It was an accident. Not your fault."

"What exactly are your abilities, Kathrine?" I asked. I wanted the attention off of me for a moment so that I could try to collect my thoughts, though they were shooting in every direction with no hope of being contained. Things were spinning. The room itself almost seemed to spin, too. It made sense, and I felt the truth of what she'd been saying in my core, though I'd gone all this time thinking that I wasn't special, that I had nothing going for me. When had I forgotten? _How_ had I forgotten? I remembered times where I didn't have these strange abilities, times where I couldn't see the odd, floating auras that shifted around people, but were none of those real?

Kathrine shifted her eyes down for a moment.

"Minor mind control. I believe that's what they have me listed as," she said.

"Naomi mentioned that. But does that mean you—"

"Yes. I was the one who took away your memories. At the time we all thought it best. An opportunity arose and we took it." Hearing her confess this so blatantly jarred something inside of me, though I kept my composure as best I could.

"What opportunity?" I said through clenched teeth, my heart skipping and shuddering against my chest.

"A few years ago there was an invasion on the Earth by a race known as the Chitauri. You may remember that. You were in New York at the time, with your father. He fought with us to bring you along. He insisted that you would be okay when we expressed our concern for having you in the city. Eventually, he won the battle. So, you were in the wrong place when the invasion happened. You were pretty badly damaged in the battle—we were a little busy at the time, so no one is really sure what happened to you exactly. Your father flew you back to Japan pretty quickly. He told us that this was the perfect opportunity to make you normal. He had something he designed that was supposed to stunt your abilities, which apparently you were too strong for when you were healthy. He put that in your chest, a chip of some sort, or perhaps an encasing. It was made of a very special metal, one that he had apparently configured specifically to combat your abilities. How he managed that, I am unsure. I'm no scientist." I thought back to the bracelet Naomi had, realizing that must have been of the same material. Placing a hand over my chest, I tried to imagine such a thing implanted inside of me.

"He called me in a few days after he put it in and had me wipe your memories. He wanted it so that you wouldn't feel your abilities or be able to use them at all, but he also wanted to make sure you didn't miss them. It was a perfect plan. And it was working wonderfully until your home suddenly went up in flames." She turned her eyes to me, a somewhat amused look on her face. "You did that, didn't you?"

"I was tired," I mumbled, feeling numb from all of the information. She laughed under her breath, faintly.

"The explosion damaged the device he put in place of your heart. That's how you could suddenly feel your abilities again."

"That's why I thought the explosion caused them. I had no prior memory of them because of what you took away."

"That's correct."

"So this thing in my chest—can it be removed? What happens if we take it out?" I placed a hand over the sweater, over the spot where I knew one of my large, ugly scars was located. That was how it had gotten there, then—I'd been injured by the outside world and my father set out to fix it. I had to wonder, though, if he'd tried to hide my abilities for his sake or mine. It was likely that my abilities scared and threatened him, threatened his power, and he wanted them gone so that I could never rebel.

"If it is successfully removed…there's a possibility you'll fully regenerate and be much stronger than you are now. Which could be dangerous," Kathrine said.

"Is that why they sent Naomi to be with us at the base? To subdue me if I got out of control?" I thought back to Naomi showing up out of the blue, the secret meetings they had without me, how at first she seemed very cautious of me. She'd said herself that she was there to make sure I was adjusting, but really she'd been there to watch, to take me out with tools she knew would work.

"Yes. Naomi is quick, and knows exactly where to hit someone to be able to shut them down. She's a great asset. They figured she could handle it if things got out of control."

"So, I'm a dangerous thing that no one can figure out and I need to be watched." I looked up at her, once again trying not to get emotional.

"It's not exactly like that, Annabelle. Now that you're here and the Avengers seem to want you around, we could do some work on you and make you feel more in control. We'll help you."

"Have I ever killed anyone?" I asked. I had a strange feeling in my gut that told me the answer, but I wanted to hear it from her lips.

She hesitated as I watched her, balling up my pants in my fists.

"…would you like your memories back? You'll have all your answers. That device I gave you before you left for the base was supposed to enlighten you."

"Like I said, it broke."

"Just like that?"

"Captain Rogers let it slip." I didn't mean to sound so hostile about it, but it came out of my mouth before I could stop it. It seemed that animosity was still there. It had been festering when we talked about Naomi, as well.

"Ah, yes, well. He does seem to want to keep you in the dark."

"But why—"

Tony flopped onto the couch next to me, crossing his arms. I'd been so absorbed that I hadn't seen him coming.

"Ladies."

"Stark," Kathrine replied. I ran a hand through my tangled hair, leaning back a bit. I felt like my head was going to explode from all of this information. It was so much, yet it all made so much sense to me. It was a comfortable yet overwhelming truth. My emotions were spiking in every direction. And now, finally, I was so close to getting my memories cleared—yet Tony had to show up and stunt the process. I almost wanted to throw him out, itching for that lost information. I wanted things to make sense. I wanted to know who I was.

"The suits are done, Annabelle. Best get out there and try yours on. One of the agents will show you the way. I'll stay here a bit and have a chat with Miss Zindel." He looked over at Kathrine, who narrowed her eyes slightly.

"I'm getting my memories back first," I said, looking at her as well. "Right?"

"Another time, kiddo. Go on," Tony asserted. I couldn't help but glare in his direction.

"That can wait."

"Look, Cap is going to blow up at me if I let you do this. So, another time—when you can't get me in trouble with mister McAngry-pants."

"He doesn't decide what I do. We're not even friends. I don't even know him. He has no say in my life," I snapped, turning again to Kathrine. "Please." She bit her lip. I felt like I was just barely holding off an emotional frenzy.

"Mr. Stark, please go stand in that corner," she ordered. Tony abruptly stood up and did as she said, resting his forehead against the wall. It was clear that saying Kathrine had 'minor' mind control was a complete understatement; Tony was as stubborn as stubborn gets, and she didn't even have to move a finger to make him do whatever she wanted. A bit of fear coursed through me as I realized this, but I stood before her anyway.

"I'm sorry for taking what was yours. You may decide that you want me to take the memories back, however, after you have experienced them. I won't. Do you understand?" She gave me a serious look. I let my eyes shut for a moment, taking a few seconds to think before nodding my head.

"I want this. I need them back. I need to know who I am."

"Then open your eyes and look at me." I did so, meeting those dark eyes of hers. Upon closer inspection they seemed to have a hint of dark red hidden in them, deep like blood. Though her eyes seemed so average all of the past times I had looked at her, they now seemed different. Extraordinary. Pools of dark color swirled around the black of her pupils. I was so mesmerized that I suddenly felt as if I never wanted to look away, just stare into her eyes forever. The rest of the room, even the rest of her face, became irrelevant. I felt like I was floating, hovering alone, in a place devoid of time or space, Kathrine's eyes being the only thing keeping me from drifting away completely. Then, like a rush of strong wind, memories flooded through my mind. They were suffocating, screams and whispers and music ringing through my ears all at once, a million different smells and sights bombarding my senses. I felt like I was being squeezed and thrown around, people yelling my name, pleading, crying. I heard my mother, singing something quietly in Russian; I heard my father laughing; I heard my heart beating a million beats a minute. Colors rushed past me, blinding me. I felt so detached from my body, like everything I knew and everything I was slipped right out from under me and flew away.

Then, just as quickly as everything had started, it ended. It was so abrupt that I lost my footing, falling back onto the hard floor. The simple room Kathrine and I had been talking in suddenly seemed so drastically different. Even Tony, still standing in the corner, seemed like a completely different person. My head ached, sweat dripping from my forehead, tears rolling down my cheeks. I felt a rush of color as Steve ran in, his hair a mess.

"Annabelle!" he yelled. But it was too late.


	22. Book I Ch 22

_Summer, 2012_

 _'Dear Captain America.'_

I tucked the letter into a new envelope, sealing it shut and tucking it into my bag. My father and I were going out into Chitose this afternoon to get a few more supplies before boarding the plane to New York the next day, for a convention that he had been invited to. I'd never been on a plane, nor had I ever been to New York, so the trip seemed like an exhilarating experience. I could hardly wait. My case worker, Kathrine, was coming over later in the day to check on me, make sure I was of sound mind before getting on the flight. She was always kind to me, so I didn't mind her intentions when she visited. SHIELD, an organization that dealt with extraordinary people like me, sent her once every month to check in on me and make sure I was behaving myself. When I was younger she visited less often, but they started watching me like a hawk recently. I suppose it was because my power seemed to grow exponentially.

Their close attention was my own fault. Seventeen was a bad year for me, and had been the trigger to them believing I was more dangerous than first assumed. Not only had it been the fifth anniversary of my mother's death, but it was also the year that my father began having his 'sponsor parties,' where drunk men over the age of forty would grope and try to have their way with me. The first man who tried this, a short, loud man named Seth Hughes, ended up dead. But, in all honesty, I still couldn't bring myself to feel as bad about it as I should have. My father did, however, feel horrible, as did SHIELD. There was a crazy cover-up story to protect me and get me off the radar as much as possible. I think 'death by over-intoxication' was the final word put out on his unfortunate demise.

Because I couldn't fight back at the risk of hurting anyone else, I was expected to let similar situations happen without question. SHIELD didn't know about this agreement I'd made with my father—it was kept between us. The men I came into contact with did what they wanted, I didn't get in trouble. No one got hurt. Well, I did. But that didn't really seem to matter in the grand scheme of things. I'd lay in bed feeling lost, exposed, and watch the man of the night fix himself, make himself presentable as he waltzed back out into the party. Another man for the list. Another pleased smile from my father when that man gave him money to support his scientific endeavors. That particular smile of his always made me feel sick—it reminded me of what I was.

I scooped my phone off my desk, noticing the little blue light that flashed in the corner indicating a voicemail. I dialed '1' and held the phone up to my ear while shoving a few extra things into my suitcase.

"Hey, Anna, I heard you're going to New York in a few days. That'll be fun, eh? It's a nice place. I grew up around there. Did I ever tell you that? Of course it was a much different place back then. I haven't been there recently. You'll have to tell me what you think, alright? I just wanted to wish you a safe trip. Call me when you land? I'll always answer, as usual. Alright, see you!"

The phone clicked and the automated female voice took over. I tossed the phone on my bed and stuffed a stray sock in my luggage. That was Clive Willow. He was an old friend of mine, and the one who had taught me all I know about English, as well as my abilities. In a world where I felt like I was alone, completely unique, Clive was there. His abilities weren't strong like mine were, but they no doubt were the same. We could sense that in each other. How he'd found me all the way out here near Chitose, I would never know. He was American by birth, and, according to him, he'd never really traveled much before he got wind of me. Whoever delivered the message of my existence, I was forever grateful.

At the ripe old age of eighty, Clive looked like he was in his mid-twenties, his curly hair still deep black with not a gray in sight. He suspected that I wouldn't age much either, once I got old enough. Some side effect to the abilities, apparently. He'd been one of my best friends for the longest time, though recently, regrettably, I'd seen less and less of him. My father hired him for English, and wasn't happy that he was also teaching me things about my powers. My father hated my power. All for good reason, though; though we really didn't know what the ultimate cause of my mother's death was, it was highly suspected that my powers had something to do with it, like some radiating effect that was just too much for her. My heart twinged in pain every time I thought about it. I often wished it had been my father. My mother had been so pure and accepting, and my father was the complete opposite. I would do anything to go back and save her. Yet I had pushed her too hard, stressing her and draining her with my abilities when she was already sick. It was my fault.

"Your caseworker is here," my father said, lightly knocking his fist against my doorframe. I nodded and glanced at the bag to my side, knowing my letter was nestled inside. It was addressed to the one and only Captain America, a silly crush of mine that I'd held onto for years and years. I hesitated before pulling the letter out of the bag and leaving the room to go meet Kathrine. I was going to give it to her. I had the strangest, strongest urge to do so.

'Something is wrong,' I typed, hitting send. I had told Clive I would keep him updated on the trip via text, which I had been doing faithfully since I arrived. Today was day seven of the convention, and the twenty fifth day that I'd been in New York. I'd already thrown up three times today, something that I very rarely did. My body was unbalanced; there was something strange about the sky, too, some pulsing energy that was making me sick. Maybe it was all of the buildings and radio waves that I wasn't used to.

'What are you feeling?' Clive responded.

'I just feel sick. And the sky looks an awful shade.'

'Have you told anyone?'

'Yes, I tried to tell my father, but he won't listen. No one here will. You'd think with all these science freaks here at least one of them would be interested in an anomaly like this.'

'Science freaks? Watch it. I'm one of those.' Clive was into biology, genetics, anything he could get his hands on that helped him understand his condition. I had started following the same path.

'You know what I mean.' I set my phone down, glancing out at the clear sky once more. With my human sight it looked normal, a lovely shade of blue. But with my other sight, I could feel that it was very off color, especially in one particular, circular spot.

"I'm going outside," I told my father, who didn't seem to hear me. He was busy with a man and woman who had made their way to his booth, explaining the complicated but rewarding process to how he discovered his latest breakthrough. I moved past the many people and exited the building. Even the streets were packed with people, much to my discomfort. I wasn't used to so many people in one place, all bustling around and brushing past me, some with exasperated or irritated looks plastered on their faces. Everyone seemed to be absorbed in their own private worlds, too busy to even give me a look. One man did, however, and whistled loudly at me from his car. I glanced in his direction, disgusted, and pushed past a few people to get away from him. After wandering around the busy street I found myself eventually face to face with Stark Tower, though I suppose I'd been headed in that direction all along. Sparks flew up my spine in excitement. I'd always wanted to get a good look at the tower. I was a fan of Tony Stark, more or less. My father wasn't, however.

A strange sound rattled through the streets, tearing people's eyes away from their phones and catching my attention. I shifted my vision up to find that the circular place in the sky which had been discolored was now a visible hole, ripping open and exposing a stretch of space that definitely should not have naturally been visible. My stomach lurched and I ducked against the nearest building. I felt a little safer with my back against the brick as I watched the disturbance, but nothing could protect me from the nausea that rolled over me almost immediately. The people around me didn't run, like I thought they would. Curiosity got the best of them, as it often got the best of me, and they could do nothing but stare upwards with their mouths agape. Then, very suddenly, figures began to emerge from the rip in the sky, strange creatures riding complex vehicles that caused an outburst from the people in the streets around me. Curiosity was lost. Everyone fled, screaming in all directions as the creatures descended, raising their weapons menacingly. I couldn't move. My back still pressed against the building, all I could do was stare with wide eyes, taking in the scene. I didn't budge until a larger creature crashed into several cars, its size baffling. It was like a sky whale, armored, sharp, and menacing. One of the cars burst into flames near me as the creature slashed its great arm across it, sending me off in a different direction. I didn't know where to go, what to do, or what even to think. I followed the crowds as they flocked towards the buildings, trying desperately to get away from the horrors that came from the sky. I tried to keep my mind clear, focused on not getting too overexcited so that I didn't hurt anyone around me. My skin tended to release sparks when I got too upset or afraid, and no one needed that right now. The way I manipulated energy may have even threatened the already terrified onlookers.

I was pushed to the side as a man barreled past me, shoving me away so that he could easily get to the door. I lost my footing with the push and fell hard onto the street, scraping my elbows against the asphalt. All of the screams and shouts of terror were making my head pulse with pain, and now my skin stung as well. I could feel all of the fear and panic coming off of every individual of the crowded streets that passed me, everything so overwhelming. K _eep it together. Focus. Deep breaths._ I inhaled and pulled myself off the ground, looking around to see if I could be of any use. I didn't fear death.; if there was anything I could do to help someone else in need, I would do it. I set off in the opposite direction that people were running, trying not to freak myself out every time one of the alien creatures soared overhead on their strange, flying vehicles. I helped a few people out of their cars, picked a few up off the ground, did all I could think to do without panicking. The aliens were on the streets now, pillaging cars and street lights and anything else they could get their clawed hands on. I had to fight the urge to run back to my father and huddle up next to him, like a scared little girl. I wasn't going to let myself be that person anymore.

A shrill scream stood out above the others, and I looked around until I spotted one of the creatures with a spear through the windshield of a sedan, a woman trapped inside. Pushing my fear aside, I leaped over the car in front of me, jumping from there onto the next car until I came to the woman. Without thinking I rammed into the alien, knocking the both of us to the ground. When it tried to resist and fight back I gave it a good electrical shot, waiting until the creature's energy had gone dark and its body stilled before I turned back to the woman. I ripped the door off of her car and took her hand, helping her out and pushing her towards the direction where the others were still running.

"No! Jillian!" she screamed, fighting me. I looked back at the car, realizing that there was a small person sitting in the back seat, her internal energy bright with fear. I pushed the mother again and went back for her, breaking the window and pulling her out. She was a small girl, with bright red hair and wide hazel eyes that stared at me with wonder as I ran her to the sidewalk, where her mother was in hysterics.

"Go!" I yelled when they didn't move. The mother grabbed her daughter's small hand and ran off, ducking into the nearest building. I turned back to look for more people. The streets now seemed pretty barren, almost eerie, though I could still hear screams and panic coming from another area. Deciding to head to a different street, I took off running. I didn't make it far, however, before one of the horrifying, large beasts tore around the corner of the nearest building, colliding with the walls and shattering the windows. Ahead of it, seemingly leading it, was a small, red, human shaped suit. Iron Man. I held my breath and watched as he curved around the next corner, the beast on his tail. Was he fighting this by himself? I sucked in a deep breath. If he was, that meant he needed all the help he could get. And I was more than willing to offer everything I had.

However, something hit my chest, knocking the wind out of me for a brief second. It took me a moment to realize what had happened, and it didn't truly sink in until I tilted my head down to see the pointed edge of an alien spear protruding from my chest. My shirt had become soaked with thick blood, my mouth suddenly dry. The creature from behind me, who had a firm grip on the staff, gave it a great swing up and to the side, flinging me around while I was too shocked to move. I hit the side of a car as it tossed me here and there. I pushed myself back on the spear, ignoring the excruciating pain, grabbing at the head of the alien holding it. I mustered up all my strength and yelled out as I released a powerful shock from my fingertips, sucking the life out of it. It fell and I followed after, the spear still lodged through my chest. I could feel that my heart had stopped beating, though my abilities kept me moving, at least for now. I tried to push the spear out, blood covering my hands as I cried and whined and pushed with all my strength. I didn't have enough. I was never enough.

My consciousness wavered in and out, and I was off the street, in a shop, on a plane. My body was stiff, dark figures moving around me, stretching their hands towards me as the plane engines whirred in the background. I couldn't tell if the figures were real, human, or simply harbingers of death. They reached inside of me, twisting, pulling, prodding. But that was it. There was no more. This was how I died.

 _Present Day_

 _(Late October, 2014)_

"I swear, I don't know what happened," Tony explained, desperate, pulling a hand through his dark hair. Steve stood before him, arms crossed and looking livid. Kathrine had since escaped the room, leaving me alone in an armchair.

"I know what happened. You just stood there and let Annabelle suffer. That's what you did. And look, now she's basically unresponsive. Can't you think about someone else for a change?"

"I swear, Cap, listen. I was here, saying Annabelle should leave and go try her suit on, and then nothing. I blacked out. I can't remember a thing."

"Hard to believe."

"Okay, well, why did you send me here anyway? You could have stormed in and gotten all pissy about Annabelle like you have been doing for days now, and we wouldn't be having this conversation. Do something for yourself. Don't send me to do your crap."

"I didn't send you to do anything. I mentioned I was worried and you set off on your own. Like you always do. Have to go save the day before anyone else can."

"Oh, is that what you think? That I'm an ego hound?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Stop fighting," I said softly, the two of them turning to stare at me.

"Annabelle…" Steve made his way over, Tony following close behind. "Are you okay?"

"I remember."

"See, this is a good thing," Tony said, but the glare Steve gave him made him shut up.

"So you're not okay, then," he said. I took a deep breath.

"How did you know? How much do you know?"

"Well, I hacked some of your files when you first showed up at my tower, so he knows that," Tony commented, getting another angry look.

"Leave, Stark," Steve hissed, Tony looking a little taken aback.

"Yeah, alright. Geez. Angry. Don't know what crawled in your pants and bit you when you were sleeping."

"Is that even a real phrase?" I asked in a whisper. He didn't answer, only holding his hands up in surrender and backing out.

"Still come try on your suits after your little pow-wow, okay?" He waved and quickly headed off down the hall, leaving the two of us alone. His energy was frazzled, probably from what Kathrine had done to him. I could only imagine mine looked the same.

Steve sat across from me, too big for the small armchair he'd decided to sit in.

"I got your letter," he said. I shook my head, looking at my hands.

"You couldn't have. My father didn't send any of them. Besides, until now, I couldn't even remember that you were alive. All of the letters I remember writing…I thought you were still frozen in the ice." I looked back up. "It's embarrassing you even know about them."

"No, I got one. Didn't you get my response?" I blinked and stared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Kathrine gave me a letter. After I…woke up. Wasn't too long after I woke up, I guess. Few months. I was going through a rough time. It was just before I actually became a part of the Avengers, so I had nothing to do but wander around a city that I no longer recognized. I thought it was so strange, getting a letter. Didn't seem like anyone really sent letters anymore. But you did. You gave me something to do, something to think about. I wrote you back and told Kathrine to give it to you."

"I never got it," I choked out, suddenly getting emotional.

"I didn't think much about it after I sent my response. That's when the invasion happened, so, I was kind of busy. Truthfully, I didn't think of you again until Tony called me in the middle of the night and said someone had broken into his tower. He sent me your files that he hacked from the SHIELD database. I knew I'd seen your name somewhere. It took me a while to realize you were the same girl. But once I did, I felt like I had some obligation to protect you. You came to me in your time of need, when I was irrelevant to modern society. You reached out to me for help, and I couldn't give it to you. Now I can." I nodded as he finished, looking down at my hands. I still felt sick, though there was some sense of peace within me. I knew who I was. What I was. Though most of it wasn't pleasant, I didn't regret begging Kathrine to bring my memories back.

"I appreciate you trying to keep me from remembering. I understand your intentions."

"I just didn't want you to hurt. I thought maybe if you didn't remember that you'd be able to just live your life without those things in your past. And I only know so much. The letter you gave me was vague, but there was so much pain behind it. I'm sure there's more that you remember that you wish you didn't. I realize now it was stupid of me not to see that you felt incomplete without remembering, though. I guess I would feel the same way."

"I know who I am now. This is better."

"Is it?"

"Yes." I stared at him, keeping my face straight.

"…now you're talking to me like I'm a stranger," he said quietly.

"Aren't you?"

"I don't want to be."

I held my breath.

"...and I don't want you to be. I just don't know how to get close to you. With everyone else it seems so natural. I don't understand why with you…" I trailed off. I didn't know how to explain the odd emotions in my. I only hoped that the letter he got hadn't been some stupid confession of love.

"We'll work on it. Together. Okay?" He stood and offered his hand out to me, pulling me up. I nodded, unable to resist a faint smile.

"Together, then."


	23. Book I Ch 23

"So, what's your story?" Tony asked, pulling a covered bag with a hanger poking from the top out of one of the closets. We were in a small SHIELD storage room, where Tony had stored all of the suits after finishing them.

"What, don't you already know? You knew more about me than I knew about me when I got here," I replied, taking the bag from him as he handed it over. I was excited to see what the suit looked like, and was still processing the fact that I had my own suit to begin with.

"There really isn't much on your file that SHIELD has. I was disappointed when I acquired it."

"'Acquired'."

"Hacked, stole, whatever." He crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "So, of course, I'm very curious to know what the rest of your life was like."

"Well, I've always had my abilities," I started.

"I did know that. That was in the file."

"Why don't you just tell me what you know, and I'll fill in the rest."

"Well I know they don't really know where you came from, or why. Which bugs me. Everything has an explanation. Uh, I know your family heritage. That's…really about it."

"So you know that my grandmother was a member of HYDRA?" I asked. It was a part of my past I hadn't remembered, but now that it was there I wanted it out in the open. I didn't want to hide her affiliations, especially not to people who were somehow involved with it. Tony nodded his head.

"SHIELD keeps track of all the old HYDRA members and descendants just in case," he said.

"Well, then there's not really much else to fill in. That's pretty much it. Surprised they didn't label me as a 'psychopathic and deadly freak of nature,' though," I said, only somewhat joking. When I looked back at my past now, and from what I remembered of killing that man when I was only seventeen, that seemed like an appropriate label.

"SHIELD is pretty professional with their entries. I, however, definitely would have put that in there."

"Thanks, Tony."

"So, really? No dirty secrets? Nothing crazy?"

I hesitated, keeping my eyes down.

"I've killed a guy." He was fresh in my mind now. Kathrine's redistribution of my memories made the incident with him much clearer than I would have wanted it to be. He'd grabbed me, put his hands places he shouldn't and then...

"Woah. You? You're just about the sweetest thing I've ever met. I don't believe you." I gave him a look. "…okay, maybe not the sweetest. You're pretty salty sometimes. But, really? Why'd you kill the guy?" He raised an eyebrow. He was being so casual about it, I didn't know whether to feel uncomfortable or flattered that he cared enough about me not to be fazed. I sighed, running my hand over my bagged suit.

"He tried to take advantage of me. He scared me, and I reacted."

"You don't sound very remorseful."

"Trust me, I still feel guilty about it. I knew nothing about him. Maybe he had a family back home. Maybe people missed him. I just…couldn't control myself," I explained, keeping my eyes on the bag. I wished it was see-through, so I could at least get a glimpse of what my new suit looked like to get my mind off of the incident. Unfortunately for me, though, the bag was black.

"We all make mistakes, Green."

"Yeah, but my mistakes are always going to be deadly. Which means I can't afford to make any."

"Hey, stop. Don't beat yourself up. Like I said, mistakes happen. And sometimes those mistakes are our worst nightmares. Unfortunately, that's the life we live. Especially in your case; we were given something spectacular, but everything has consequences. Everything."

"That actually didn't make me feel better at all," I mumbled. He simply shrugged his shoulders.

"So you killed a guy for trying to feel you up. I take it you were a very good girl, then? I peg you as that type."

"Oh, no, definitely not."

"No?" He raised his eyebrow again, a smirk forming on his lips.

"No, no, no. I mean I tried to be. But, no. There were a lot of people that came to my father's little parties. Interesting people. Yes, at first, it terrified me to be in contact with other people. I knew who I wanted to be, and I had all my silly plans about finding 'the one' before I did anything, just like most little girls do. But it got increasingly harder to stay true to that as I got older, especially when I really wasn't happy. I had nothing else to look forward to, nothing positive in my life. On top of that, I was terrified of getting upset at anyone else who tried to touch me after what happened to the first guy. So I just…let things happen." I left out the part about my father being involved. He'd made me promise that I would give myself over to any man who asked for his own benefit. As mad as I was about that, I didn't feel like outing him. Tony disliked him enough already.

"It's different for me, you know. Sex," I continued, "Not only does it have the normal appeal, but I can see feelings. Feel other people's feelings. It became somewhat of a comfort. If my partner for the night ended up leaving happy, a little bit of that happiness rubbed off on me. It made things bearable." I trailed off, clearing my throat. I hadn't really intended on telling anyone all of this, but as soon as he asked it all slipped out. I knew how some people felt about girls like me. For some, I'd be viewed as disgusting—a whore. But this was different. I was different. I was already an anomaly because of my abilities, and it was because of those abilities that I gave in. I wasn't a whore. Or, at least, I refused to give in to the name. I was handed cards and had to react with them appropriately to survive. Was it criminal that I tried to enjoy myself a little bit along the way. Still, talking about it out loud made it feel wrong, dirty, and if I had been talking to anyone but Tony I'd have felt ashamed.

"I definitely want to hear more about this. In detail," Tony said finally, that grin only widening on his face. I let out a breath of relief. Of course I knew who Tony was, what he engaged in, but some part of me was still scared what he would think. Men had that stupid hypocritical standard that they were allowed to sleep with anyone they wanted, but a woman who did the same was shamed. Clearly, this was not the case with Tony.

"That's all the details I'm giving you. I don't know what more you want.," I muttered, though I could feel a smile creeping up on my lips.

"What about your abilities? Learn anything new about those?"

"Well, I learned that the way I was trying to use them was all wrong. My motions were choppy. The correct way to best channel energy is with fluid movements, like moving your hands through water. Like this." I held my hands out in front of me, one cupped in the other, then slowly pulled my fingers out, rotating my wrists until tiny lit up strands of light blue energy seeped from my fingertips and wrapped around each other. Tony stared, his eyes glued to the artful display until it dissipated.

"So, it's not exactly electricity, then. It's something broader?" he asked. I nodded my head once.

"Electricity is the best interpretation we have for visible energy. That's why I spark, or why sometimes when I use my abilities it gives the appearance of lightning. But it isn't just that. There's so much more to it."

"Banner is going to love that. He'll be all over trying to figure you out when he has the time." He gave me an amused look and turned around to pull out another bagged suit. "You should go try that on."

Finally, I thought, holding the suit closer to me. Not only was I ready to be done with this conversation, considering I was still feeling strange about my new memories, but I also was ready to get out of the scratchy sweater. Besides, I wanted the guilty pleasure of imagining myself as a real hero, suit and all. I hoped that my damaged arms and legs wouldn't make it unwearable.

I waved goodbye with my free hand and booked out of there, heading to the nearest bathroom where I could change. This SHIELD facility was similar enough to the one we had been to before, and it was only a short matter of time before I found a single bathroom and slipped in. Once I had pulled shut and locked the door I laid the bag out, holding my breath for a moment before pulling it off to reveal the suit.

It was made of a black, form fitting material, a zipper down the middle that zipped all the way up to the bottom of the chin. All across the chest and arms were jagged light blue markings, which also decorated the legs and lower abdomen. Tony had already given me the shoes to match: a pair of nearly knee high boots laced up with the same light blue laces. As I held up the suit a pair of black gloves fell out onto the floor. This was meant to cover and protect the entire body, and to prevent those creatures from sapping anyone's abilities. I could only hope that they worked.

I stripped off the clothes I was wearing and pulled the suit on, lacing up the boots and snapping the gloves into place before getting a good look at myself in the mirror. Though I could only see from the waist up I could tell everything was perfect, made just for me. For the first time, I looked like I fit in. I looked like I belonged with the Avengers. I had to do everything in my power to keep from making some sort of absurd sound out of excitement. All those years reading comics, and here I was. Young me would have been proud. That made a warmness spread through me.

I zipped the suit up, though not all the way to my chin just yet, and headed back out to show Tony his work. Steve and Natasha were in the room when I returned, all suited up in outfits that very closely resembled what I had seen them wear before, though Steve's was a much darker shade than his normal red-white-and-blue look. The only bright thing on his suit was a star on each of his shoulders, which kept the original bright American flag colors. Natasha's suit was plain and black, though I could vaguely make out a black widow spider on the lower back of the suit. Of course, they both looked damn good.

"Everything fit alright?" Tony asked before turning and giving me a once over. I nodded, being sure to give him as grateful a smile as I could muster.

"It's perfect. Thank you," I said.

"I'll be honest, Natasha helped with the design a lot. I'm better at designing metal suits than anything else," he admitted. I looked over at Natasha, who met me with a smile.

"Thank you, Natasha."

"No problem."

"And, I must say, I like this look a whole lot better than what you had going on before," Tony commented, looking me over once again.

"…Tony." Steve muttered. I glanced over at him.

"What, are you saying you prefer what I had on before?" I asked, thinking of that sweater. He blinked a few times, keeping his eyes glued to my face.

"…no. This is nice. You look nice. This is fine," he said quickly, nearly tripping over his words.

"That's what I thought," I said. Tony let out a muffled laugh, a hand clapped over his mouth. Natasha rested her hands on her hips.

"Glad to meet the real you, Annabelle," she commented with a smirk. I brushed my hair back with one hand, shrugging my shoulders a little. "You're sassy when you're not brooding about amnesia."

"I didn't realize I'd been brooding, my apologies." She only laughed in return.

"Let's get to the others and start thinking of a plan," Steve cut in, clearing his throat.

"After you, Cap," Tony nodded. Steve headed out, the rest of us following behind.

"Here's the plan," Steve started, looking around the room, "We get back to New York and try to draw them in. If it's superpowers they want, we'll have to get as many gifted people as possible in one area. We'll have to make sure we can get them quickly to safety as soon as the plan works, so that we don't have to worry about any accidents. Once that's done, we'll go in and take out as many as we can, then try to find the source of where they're coming from. They came in on ships, so those vessels have to be somewhere. We need to find them and take them down. If that doesn't do the trick, we'll just need to keep fighting until the job is done. We're going to walk away from this victorious. We won't lose."

"Nice pep talk, Cap," Tony chimed. Steve gave him a somewhat irritated look in response.

"We'll all have earpieces as usual to speak to each other in case something goes wrong," he continued. Natasha slid over and handed me a small device, pointing to the center of her ear. I slipped the piece into place.

"SHIELD is sending a few people to help," Clint added. "We won't be alone."

"We'll have plenty fighting with us. I just hope we'll have enough." Steve rested his hands on his belt, looking around at everyone once more. "We'll leave here in a half an hour. Some other gifted allies are being contacted now and told where to go. With luck, we'll be finished with this by nightfall."

"And if we aren't?" I asked.

"Then we keep fighting until it's over."

"I'll go get a jet ready," Tony said, leaving the room. I took a deep breath and tapped my fingers along my thigh, praying that everything would go as planned. I'd do whatever it took to help them win this fight, even if that did mean fighting all through the night. They'd fought alien threats before. I assumed they knew what they were in for.

"Nervous for your first big mission?" Clint asked, standing beside me. I looked up and him, trying to force a smile.

"Yeah, a little bit. I just hope I'll be enough to help."

He snorted. "Please, if an old man like me can help out with a bow and arrow, you can do plenty. Trust me. You've got this."

"Well, I appreciate your belief in me."

"Clint, head out and try to get in touch with the base in New York," Steve said, joining us. "We need to make sure everything is ready before we get there. That way we can get started right away and get this over-with as quick as possible."

"Got it." Clint patted my shoulder and started for the exit. "Remember what I said, Annabelle! Don't be nervous!" he called over his shoulder.

"Okay..!" I responded, taking another deep breath as soon as he left.

"You sure you're okay to do this?" Steve asked. I shifted my eyes to him.

"Yeah, I think so."

"If you're still not feeling well, no one would blame you if you wanted to sit out. You could go back to safety with the rest of the gifteds once we start."

"But I already have the suit," I said with a smirk, then swallowed the small lump that had started to form in the back of my throat. "…I'll be okay. I want to do this.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I'm more sure of this than I have been of anything else thus far. I want to help. I do." I thought back to what I remembered of the Chitauri attack—I had tried to be a hero then, and had ultimately failed. This time would be different. This time I was prepared.

"But you'll let us know if you change your mind?" Steve asked.

"Yes. I will." He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. I shifted my feet a little, facing him more directly.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Are you and Naomi together?" It had still been bothering me, even though they seemed to have disputed it by their actions. Why else would they have been so intimate back at the safe house? Besides, I wanted to have an honest answer before we all went out against thousands of aliens that could leave us all dead. Best to get everything off my mind.

Steve gave me a strange, almost amused look.

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you two. Back at the safe house, remember? I kind of stumbled out, because I was embarrassed in thinking I'd walked in on something,"—really this was only half of the story, and I didn't plan on telling him how angry seeing it had made me—"Honestly I'm just curious. If I stumbled upon a secret relationship that you're keeping from the others, I'll keep my mouth shut. I just want to know." I bit my lip at my last word, staring at his still confused face. After a moment, though, his face relaxed.

"Oh, no. Naomi and I did a fair amount of training together just after the first invasion that brought us all together as a team. She'd show me things she knew about pressure points while I'd show her some of the older combat moves I was taught in the war. It became a habit. That's all that was back at the safe house. I actually was about to get her in a chokehold. Nothing romantic about that." He smirked faintly, which was the most amused look I'd seen on his face for a while. "Trust me, Tony has suggested that many times. Naomi's a good gal, but she's way too much for me. Besides, a relationship isn't something I'm looking for. I'm way too busy for that."

"Makes sense," I said quietly. "You are pretty busy, it seems."

"Just saving the world as usual."

"Well, that was a bit…a…uh…" I trailed off, trying to think of the word. It was a somewhat phallic word, I remembered, but I couldn't remember the actual phrase. It wasn't often I forgot English, but I suppose it had been too long of a day.

"Cocky," Natasha called from the other side of the room, flashing her eyes over to us for a moment before looking back down at what appeared to be a tablet in her hands.

"Yes, that. Cocky. You're being cocky," I pointed at him. He blinked.

"…I was joking," he said in defense.

"Sure, Steve," Natasha called again.

"Now hold on a minute, Romanoff." He turned towards her, that smirk still on his face. It was nice to see everyone seemed so calm, even when we were about to head into battle. Maybe inside they were all just as worried as I was. Maybe they all had the nervous butterflies flapping around in their stomachs, building and building until it became hard to breathe. I was at that point, even though I was trying so hard not to show it. But it made me feel a bit better to at least pretend that they were feeling the same way.

"Avengers, time to go," Tony's voice cut in, and it took me a moment to realize it was coming from the small device situated in my ear. This was it. This was the beginning of the fight. I could only hope it would end for me the way that my last alien battle had. This time I didn't have my father to rush me to surgery and 'fix' what had been destroyed. This time if I died, I would die for good.

I left the room.


	24. Book I Ch 24

"Don't be scared," I whispered to a small woman standing just beside me, her hands clutching her bag. She'd had bright eyes and a cheerful smile when we first met her, but now that was long gone. Apparently she was from some sort of SHIELD 'gifted' list, as were many of the other people standing around me now. They had collected as many people on their list that were willing to be part of the plan to lure our alien infestation into one place, and a surprising amount of people actually showed up. These were average people, dressed in their everyday clothes, looking just as normal as anyone else who could have been passing down the streets. However, each one of them had at least one inhuman power, no matter how small it may be. Fury had found an empty warehouse and called for an evacuation over much of the city, leaving us with enough room to fight however many of the creatures showed up to face us while still keeping innocent people as safe as possible.

"No sign of them," Clint chimed through my earpiece. He was stationed at the top of Stark Tower, tasked with letting us know if the plan was working.

"Want me to scout around?" I asked, glancing towards the warehouse doors. Steve had stuck me in here to watch all the other gifted people, though I had a feeling he just wanted me to change my mind and choose to stay hidden in here while they all fought. There was a zero percent chance that was going to happen, though.

"Stay put," Steve called. I audibly sighed.

"What's wrong?" The woman beside be asked in a quiet voice, turning her big brown eyes towards me.

"Nothing. Don't worry." I smiled at her, and she gave me a faint one in return.

"—I don't understand why we have to sit here and let them do all the fighting," someone yelled from across the room, their words lined with irritation. "We can do just as much as they can!"

"Please calm down," I heard Bruce say, though his voice was low and nearly inaudible to me. I surveyed the room until I found the two, then left the shivering girl at my side and headed over to them. The young man Bruce was talking to was exasperated, his face nearly as red as the curly head of hair atop his head.

"You can't tell me what to do. I agreed to come here when stupid SHIELD called me because I was planning on getting in on some action!"

"Hey," I snapped, giving him a serious look. He turned his eyes to me, which were filled with unnecessary rage.

"And who are you? Why do you get to fight with them? You're just a nobody. You're not even an Avenger. What makes you different from me?" he spat.

"You want to help, I get it. And you might have something beneficial that you could do to help. But I have more experience with these things. I've been dealing with these since they got here. I've seen what they can do. And I've seen that they can steal your abilities and use them against you—leave you powerless. Do you know how terrifying that is? I can kill someone in three seconds. I can fry brain cells. I can take everything that makes you who you are, your soul, your mind, and rip it clean out of you without even blinking. To know that one of those creatures can take that from me and use it against other people—that's scary.

"We've taken the precautions by having these suits made for us, to try to stop that from happening. You don't have a suit. You'd be putting all of us and yourself in more danger if you went out there than if you just cooperated. Imagine if you did go out there, and one of those things stole your abilities, then used them on one of the Avengers? What if your abilities killed one of them? Wouldn't you feel awful? Don't take that risk." I kept the serious look on my face as I spoke, and the rage slowly died down from within the man's eyes, and his aura. He shifted his gaze away from me. I placed a hand gently on his shoulder, hoping the motion wouldn't make him lash out. He didn't move.

"It's nothing against you. I'm sure you're fully capable. But I think the Avengers know what they're doing here. I was only lucky enough to get pulled along for the ride. If you can call that luck, I guess." He glanced at me once before shaking me off and retreating to the other side of the room, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You handled that pretty well," Bruce commented quietly.

"I'm good with talking to people. Always have been," I responded, thinking back to all of my renewed memories of my father's gatherings, where I seemed to always be talking and persuading, winning people over. It seemed so strange to me that I could have forgotten everything, or, rather, been forced to forget. As much as I trusted Kathrine, a part of me would never be able to fully forgive what she had done to me. For years of my life I went without knowing who I was or why I felt so lost. It frightened me to think about how much damage she could really do if she tried.

"We've got one," Clint chimed over the earpiece.

"Just one?" Tony asked.

"One ship. Who knows how many are on that thing."

"Get everyone inside locked up and safe," Steve ordered, the order clearly directed at Bruce and I. We were the only ones left in the warehouse while the others went out to scout. I nodded at Bruce and set off towards the large, open doors of the warehouse, forcing them both shut behind me.

"Doors are shut," I said, closing my eyes for a moment. It had been so dark inside, but now that I was out the sun seemed horribly blinding.

"Putting the codes in now," Bruce responded over the earpiece. I heard a few twists and clicks as the mechanical system switched on, securing the warehouse. The system had been set up by Tony, and while I trusted Tony's abilities I couldn't help but worry if the security would be enough to keep the creatures out. At least the people inside weren't completely defenseless.

I turned my eyes towards the sky, looking around for any sign of the ship Clint had mentioned.

"Everything is secure. Keep me updated," Bruce said.

"Sure thing," Tony responded. I started off down the empty street, a chill running down my spine from the silence. These streets were usually busy, bustling with people, but right now there wasn't a soul. Not even the wind dared to blow. My footsteps rang loud in my ears as I walked beside one of the towering buildings, passing a shop front that looked nearly surreal. Unease came over me. I had the same unsettling feeling as I'd had just before the Chitauri invasion. This could have been the very same street where I—

"I don't have visual on the ship, Clint," Natasha called. "Which direction?"

"Southeast from my position. Open your eyes, Nat, it's huge!"

"I don't see it either," I added.

"You guys have to be joking. You're joking right?"

"I see it," Tony said. He soared overhead, the sound of his thrusters startling in contrast to the previous silence. I watched him go, confused. How was he seeing something that we couldn't? I stopped walking and shut my eyes. If I couldn't see the ship with my physical vision, I'd have to see it in a different way; my way. It took a lot of focus before I could clearly 'see' the outline of the ship, or, rather, the hundreds of alien bodies clustered around it. That explained why I was so uneasy. They were sitting right under our noses, hiding in plain sight. I tried to count exactly how many there were, but I was quickly losing my focus. Now that I had my memories back I realized just what a burden the strange mechanical casing around my heart was. It obviously didn't completely stunt my abilities, but it did just enough to make everything more difficult. Of course, that had been my father's intention when he put it in. It may have saved my life back then, but if it kept preventing me from fully using my powers it was going to have an opposite effect this time around.

"Still not seeing it," Natasha repeated.

"It must only be visible right now from above," I explained, opening my eyes and trying to angle myself towards where I had felt the ship. Still with my naked eye I couldn't see a thing, but now I knew better. "Watch yourself," I added.

"Uh, something's happening," Clint said. I kept my eyes glued to the empty spot of sky, waiting. I was feeling more and more agitated by the minute, which could only mean that something bad was about to happen. Sure enough, a large scale looking shard, like the one we encountered before, came hurling towards me. It materialized out of thin air. I jumped out of the way as it dove into the pavement, lodging itself in the new crack. Several followed after, spit out of the sky at high speeds. I pressed myself against the wall of a building behind me, feeling like my throat was going to close up. This was it. This was happening. We were going to fight these things, all of these things, until it was over. The last time I had tried this, I'd ended up with a spear through the heart. But this was different, wasn't it?

I swallowed. For a moment, I cursed myself for insisting on fighting. Why didn't I just listen to Steve? I could be safe in the warehouse right now, instead of being faced with at least a dozen strange shards that in any minute would unfold to reveal the creatures I'd come to hate. But this was happening. I was here. I had to fight. _You wanted this_ , I reminded myself, leaning away from the wall. After all, if I'd had some part in causing it—though I still was extremely unclear of my role in that—I needed to be here to fight it. I pulled securely on my gloves, making sure my suit was fully zipped and my hair tied back and out of the way. The shards didn't move, though the glyphs that decorated the smooth white edges pulsed in various colors. Waiting was agonizing. What were they waiting for?

I got my answer when a horrifying screech screamed through the thin air, followed by visual on the ship, finally. It was a huge shard, looking much like all of the smaller ones, smooth on its sides now that they had been ejected. While still in the air, glyphs glowing, the ship suddenly twisted and cracked down the middle, unfolding until a terrifying revelation came over me. It wasn't a ship: it was the mother. As soon as it finished taking form it crashed onto the ground, ripping up the streets with its claws, each foot nearly larger than a car. No, not a car. A van. The collision shook the ground underfoot, eerily similar to the movement of an earthquake. I'd been through plenty of those in Hokkaido, but I could never get used to the shaking. I nearly lost my footing until I thrust out a hand to the nearby building to stay upright. The giant thing snaked its massive tongue out of its cylindrical mouth, letting out a scream that made my stomach turn.

"Ohh, now I see it," Natasha commented. I couldn't believe she was joking at a time like this.

The smaller shards that had scattered around me slowly unfolded until I was surrounded by smaller creatures, though my eyes were still glued to the big one.

"How are we going to beat this?" I asked, my words coming out in a scared whisper.

"Better find out soon. There are three more coming," Clint informed us. Nausea rolled over me.

"Just knock out the little guys. I'll work up a plan for the big ones," Tony said, passing by overhead once again before disappearing over the edge of a building.

"Oh boy," I muttered under my breath.

I was forced into action when one of the creatures caught sight of me and lunged forward, teeth bared. I grabbed its front legs, thankful for the gloves Tony had made, and swung it backwards against the wall I had previously been leaning against. Before it could get up again I sent an electric shock through it, killing it nearly instantly. The rush of power and satisfaction that gave me was mildly concerning, though I definitely didn't have the time to think about it right now. Four more came running at me, and I struggled to take them all down.

"Everyone good so far?" Steve asked.

"Fine," I answered.

"Aw, you're worried about us, that's cute," Clint said. An arrow whizzed past my face and struck a creature that was nearing me, getting it right between where its eyes should have been.

"Thanks, Clint."

"I've got you."

"Annabelle, this way!" Thor yelled to me from down the street, waving a hand to beckon me. I quickly went to his side.

"What's the plan?" I asked. I was already feeling out of breath, though I couldn't tell if I was just hyperventilating or not.

"Plan? No plan. Just kill as many as you can," he said, swinging his hammer down on a creature that tried to grab at him.

"Oh, great. No plan," I repeated slowly. I left Thor and went after a few more of the enemy that had gathered nearby, fighting to get them all down. Just as I'd put down the last one, however, a hoard of them piled on me from above. I hit the ground hard and shielded the one part of my skin that was left exposed: my face. They clawed at my suit and dug into my side, and I could only pray that they didn't rip it and get through to my skin. I didn't need my powers to be taken away right now, and no one else needed more of these stupid aliens with my abilities at their disposal. I clenched my fists and released a burst of energy, knocking them all back—but not out. They were very quickly getting back up. I got to my feet just before they recovered.

"Here!" Thor called, and I looked up just in time to see Mjolnir flying at me from afar. I panicked and quickly held my hands out to catch it, but the hammer just kept going as if I wasn't even there. It carried me until my back came in contact with a wall, which I promptly crashed through. Only then did Mjolnir stop, pinning me down on the ground. A strange squeal left my lips; the wind was completely knocked out of me. Thor hurried over and leaned, his hair falling towards me, a surprised look on his face.

"I thought you could wield Mjolnir!"

"With a lot of concentration and time!" I yelled back, though it was more of a strained, hoarse croak than a yell.

"Ah. So you are not truly worthy after all. I knew it." He lifted the hammer off my chest with ease, a satisfied grin on his face. I stared at him, dumbfounded.

"That's what you have to say?" I asked, gaining back enough of my breath to pull myself off the ground and get back out onto the street. He gave me an innocent look.

"What?"

"Unbelievable," I muttered, then quickly ducked as one of the creatures threw itself at me. It crashed against what was left of the wall, and I 'electrocuted' it from there. I turned back to Thor.

"…You have to admit, it was rather funny," he said. I chose not to comment, instead moving past him, going to attack more of the creatures that had gathered. He joined me, the two of us fighting back to back. "You soared through the air as if you were flying," Thor continued as we fought, smirking over his shoulder at me.

"It's really not that funny, I assure you," I commented. I threw a creature his way and he smacked it down, its body flattening as it hit the ground.

"I wish I had seen it," Tony said over the earpiece.

"No one asked you to contribute," I snapped, though I was thankful for the lighthearted banter. It really took the fear of fighting away, for the most part.

"Uh, guys we've got a problem back at the warehouse," Bruce said, his voice shaken, worried. I broke away from Thor and took off towards the warehouse, turning the corner just in time to see a mass of creatures crowded around the big doors. I came up just in time to see them crash with the impact. Dust rolled out around the collapsed metal and the creatures fell in, clawing over each other to get inside the building.

"Everyone, get over here now," I said quickly, sprinting forward to try to get as many aliens out as I could before they got to the innocent people inside.

"Kind of busy," Tony answered, a struggle behind his words. I grabbed the legs of two of the creatures and swung them back out the door behind me, grabbing at more as soon as I released them. No one seemed to be in the main room, thankfully. Bruce must have ushered them into some of the back rooms when he noticed something was going wrong. But Bruce…Bruce was somewhere close. I could feel him.

"Bruce!" I called, before noticing a pile of creatures near a corner of the room. They were all crawling over each other, clawing at what was under them, tongues lashing out. They reminded me of ants now with their movement. I ran over and pried a few from the pile, panicking when I realized that Bruce was under all of them. My heart sputtered in my chest. I desperately tried to pull as many off as I could, but they'd all managed to latch onto each other as well as Bruce underneath them, and it was nearly impossible for me to get them all away. I could have electrocuted them, but I feared hurting him as well and refused to take that risk.

"Bru—" I started again, but was cut off by a roar. Thrown backwards—with several of the creatures—I found myself sliding across the warehouse floor. The ground rumbled as the Hulk emerged from the pile of ravenous aliens, swinging his massive fists around and sending them in various directions, where they almost immediately fell limp. He thrashed around, stomping his feet, looking around for more things to smash. His eyes fell on me.

"Uh oh," I said quietly.


	25. Book I Ch 25

_Steve_

"What's the status with the warehouse?" Steve asked, his fingers pressed to the communicator nestled in the center of his ear. He was leaning against the side of a building, his nose bloodied, but the rest of him intact. There was a halt in the seemingly endless hordes of alien creatures, which gave him a much needed break.

"Annabelle? Banner?" he asked again.

"Bruce is off comms," Natasha informed, a grunt following her words. Clearly Steve was not the only one who was, or at least had been, busy.

"Probably means the big guy has come out to play," Tony commented.

"Annabelle?" Steve pressed on.

"I'm here," she answered quietly.

"What's going on?"

"Hulk is out. I'm trying to lure him away from the people in the other room…but I can't leave because those stupid eyeless freaks are just hanging here, waiting to come attack."

"Hold on. I'm coming your way."

"I'll see what I can do as well, but I can't seem to catch a break, here," Clint said.

"Don't worry. Take care of yourself," she responded. The way her voice was, quiet and scared, made something in Steve's chest pull. He leaned away from the building and headed in her direction, being careful to avoid being seen by any of the remaining creatures outside. The large one was still out and around, and he was very aware of that even though he didn't have eyes on it right now. He held his shield out in defense, though the street before him now only held corpses.

"Petition to officially call these things 'eyeless freaks,'" Tony joked, but Steve shook his head. He was almost to the warehouse now, picking up his pace to a sprint as soon as he saw the doors had crashed down. As he got closer he could see Annabelle inside, her back pressed against one of the storage shelves that had been left behind when they 'rented' the space out. She caught sight of him and quickly held up her hand, blood spattered on her face and trickling from her mouth. Steve skidded to a halt just before reaching the entrance, staring at her and waiting for further command. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a slow, deep breath. When she opened them again she pointed behind her, then held a finger against her lips. He followed her point with his eyes and found the Hulk standing near the corner of the room, his massive shoulders lifting and falling as he took short, angry breaths. Steve looked back to Annabelle, nodding once. She lifted her finger from her lips and pointed upwards. Her gaze didn't leave him as he slowly tilted his head up, his eyes falling on what looked to be at least a dozen of the smooth white creatures, teeth bared and dripping with salivation as they looked down on her from the rafters. They were eerily still aside from the occasional twitch of their revoltingly lengthy tongues, silent and waiting for anyone to move.

Steve's mind ran through numerous possibilities of how to get out of the situation, but Annabelle caught his attention again with another hand motion. She made a circular shape in the air, pointed to his shield, then pointed to herself. As he met her eyes she nodded her head slowly. He nodded in return. He readied himself as she held out her hand, counting down on her fingers from five. When she reached zero he tossed the shield at her, the motion causing the creatures huddled above to screech and scuttle around. This, of course, caught Hulk's attention as well. He gave an angry exhale and spun around to face the noise, eyes wide and brow furrowed. Annabelle slid her hand across the front of the shield, her eyes suddenly illuminated by her strange electrical light. It became clear after a few moments that whatever she intended hadn't worked, though, a horrified and panicked look coming over her face as she jerked her head upwards just in time for one of the creatures to leap down on her. She deflected it with the shield and shoved it across the room with inhuman strength, then hurled the metal disk up at the rafters. It hit several more of the creatures and knocked them loose before returning, where Steve leaped forward and caught it.

"What were you planning with that?" he yelled over the screams of the fallen aliens, getting in a defensive stance.

"I was going to send an electrical current through it and knock them all out. But you didn't tell me your shield absorbs electricity," she said quickly, somewhat exasperated.

"I didn't know," he answered.

"You take these, I'll do something about Hulk."

She leaped gracefully from her spot, landing several feet up on one of the shelves, which she quickly climbed over and sprung from the other side. He could no longer see her, but he didn't have time to think or worry about what she was doing. Six more of the enemy fell from the roof and tore towards him, collecting the other fallen ones as they went. Dazed as some of them were, they were still fast. He did all he could to bring them down, bashing and slicing through the pack until they were all still, his breathing heavy and his nose dripping with blood once more. As soon as he was sure they wouldn't get back up he turned and rounded the corner of the large shelf, not wasting any time to go assist Annabelle.

She was moving quickly in jagged patterns, the Hulk pursuing her as best he could, though he looked the slightest bit confused. He reached out to clap his hands over her head but she was suddenly on the other side of him, waiting for him to catch up before moving again. Though he was much stronger than her, she was much, much faster. Steve watched and tried to calculate how to cut into this little dance, but she made a different move before he could act. While behind Hulk she hoisted herself up onto his back, nearly being thrown off as he thrashed around in protest. She struggled to keep herself up, grabbing his hair and trying to dodge his angry fists.

"I could use a hand," she spat out, missing one big green fist by mere centimeters. Steve ran forward and stood defensively in front of Hulk.

"Hey!" he yelled, catching his attention. Hulk roared and went to grab at him, giving Annabelle just enough time to slap her hands on each side of his face. At first nothing happened, but then Hulk suddenly thrashed more violently, though his movements quickly became clumsy. He stumbled around, eyes heavy, then eventually lost his footing. When he crashed to the ground, taking Annabelle with him, the room seemed to shudder.

"Annabelle!" Steve ran to her side, Hulk lazily trying to grab at his feet as he passed. His hands were gradually becoming less green, his massive form shrinking in size until only a shivering, half-clothed Bruce remained. Annabelle lifted a hand, lightly setting it atop Bruce's messy head of hair.

"He's alive, right?" she asked, sounding tired.

"He's fine," Steve assured her after giving Bruce a quick look, holding out a hand to help her up. She graciously took it. "Your face is a mess," he added jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. He'd never seen her look so tired, nor so defeated.

"So is yours," she responded, smiling faintly.

"Touché."

Steve was glad to see that smile. There was something warm about it, something that gave him strength. This was the woman who had reached out to him those years ago. Finally the words of her heartfelt letter had a face—and what a beautiful face it was.

"There's a problem, guys," Tony interrupted.

"Let me guess. Your plan didn't work, did it?" Clint asked.

"The plan was perfect. These things just didn't react the way they were supposed to."

"Uh huh."

"Do you have another plan?" Annabelle asked, then gestured to Bruce on the floor. Steve took the hint and picked him up, taking him to one of the side rooms where the group of gifted people were hiding. He lightly knocked after finding the door sealed shut.

"Dr. Banner needs to join you. Please, open up." It took a moment, but eventually a small woman pulled the door open and let him in.

"I'm working on it," Tony said, answering Annabelle.

"I'll go out there and see what I can do," she said. Steve laid Bruce down against the wall and checked in with the group of people, making sure no one was hurt or needed help in any way. When he confirmed that everyone was alright he stepped back out of the room. Annabelle was gone.

"Couldn't have waited for me?" he asked, jogging out of the warehouse to try to catch up with her.

"You're too slow," she commented over the communicator.

"Oooooh!"

"Clint."

"Sorry."

"Well, where are you headed? I can meet up with you there." Steve waited for a response, but he didn't get one. "Hello?"

"She's fine, Cap, I see her," Tony said. "She packs a hell of a punch."

"I don't doubt that. Can you get me her location?"

"Near the tower. She's fighting off a—uh oh—!"

"What's the matter?" he stopped running, lifting his head to try to see the tower from beyond the other large buildings. From where he was standing, he could only see the top.

"They're in my tower!" Tony cursed.

"Is there anything in there that would cause us trouble?" Steve asked, then reconsidered. "I don't know why I ask. Of course there is."

"That's not why I'm upset! I just rebuilt that tower from the last stupid invasion!"

"Ah, Stark, worrying about the important things," Natasha mocked.

"I'll take care of it," Annabelle cut in, finally joining the conversation.

"How many are there?" Steve took off in a run towards her direction. There was no way he was letting her fight through things alone. He'd already left her alone too much today.

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Aw, Annie, let Cap help you. He always wants to be the prince that saves the day," Tony added.

"Never call me Annie," she answered, ignoring the rest.

"May I just take a moment to say how privileged I feel to be a part of these conversations?" Clint asked, to which everyone, nearly in unison, yelled no.

It took Steve nearly ten minutes to finally get to the tower, though, again, Annabelle was nowhere in sight. That is, until she crashed through one of the windows from high up, holding two of the alien creatures in each hand. He watched with worry as she plummeted to the ground. She caught herself, though, and managed to land gracefully on her feet. After throwing the creatures into a pile of others that she'd collected close by she brushed herself off, her face bright as she surveyed her work. She turned towards Steve, hands firmly on her hips.

"I told you I could handle it."

"I didn't doubt you, I jus—"

The most sickening scream rang through his ears, his legs quivering suddenly as nausea overtook him. The ground shook violently, the remaining windows in the towers that surrounded them shattering with the impact. Before he could move, before he could even speak, Stark Tower before him crumbled. Through the rubble came one of the massive, mother aliens, teeth bared and body markings flaring with color. The rumbling stopped but the nausea remained, and he had to take a moment to breathe before pressing a shaky hand to his communicator.

"What was that noise?" Tony asked.

"Oh, Tony...you don't want to know," Natasha replied somberly.

"I always want to know." Within seconds Steve heard Tony's suit soar by, his thrusters sputtering.

"...What the fu—"

"I'm on it," Annabelle interrupted. Before Steve could grab her she had sprinted off towards the intimidating beast, her hands extended a bit out to the side.

"Annabelle!"

"Don't worry, Cap, I'll take this one. Sit your old man butt down somewhere." Tony started.

"This isn't a time for jokes, Stark," Steve threatened, clenching his fists.

"No one come near. If what I do doesn't work, hit it with all you've got," Annabelle said.

"I don't care what you say, there's no way in—" He cut himself off as he watched her dig in her ear and pull out the communicator, tossing it aside as she ran. "...unbelievable."

"Maybe she has a plan. Let's give her a minute," Tony said.

"Excuse me, do you see the size of that thing? And you're just going to let her go alone?"

"There's not much we can do at this point but trust her. Nothing I've done to get rid of the big ones have worked."

"But—

"Let her take this, Steve. She's not a little girl," Natasha said softly. Steve squared his jaw and turned to watch Annabelle from afar.

"The moment this doesn't work, we go in."

"Absolutely."

Annabelle stopped just short of the monstrous creature, taking her still outstretched hands and swinging them around in front of her, one hand just barely missing the other until her arms were crossed at the wrists. She took a visible deep breath and scrunched her fingers, pulling her arms back as she did. Whatever she was doing seemed to have no effect on the creature, however, even though she herself looked like she was struggling. She dug her heel back into the rubble and bent at the knees, pulling her fingers in until they formed into fists. The moment her fists were tightly clenched, something incredible happened. Steve could hardly believe it himself, watching in wonder as the creature's legs gave out, a bright array of colors exploding from under its skin. They shot like fireworks as they broke their way through the alien's scaly white skin, curling out in bands of light too surreal for him to believe. In moments the alien had collapsed, and, with it, Annabelle. She fell back into the rubble, buried suddenly in the dust that rose up from where the big one had fallen.

Steve rushed over, heart thumping, Tony right behind him. He fanned away the dust, searching around with what little he could see.

"G—H—he—r—" He couldn't understand Tony as he spoke through the communicator, everything jumbled. He could, however, see the light emitting from the arc reactor a little ways away, and chose to follow it. He stepped carefully over all of the fallen pieces of Stark Tower, eventually catching up to Tony. He was crouched on the ground, holding one hand out to use as a sort of flashlight. The light was shining directly on the dirt and ash covered face of Annabelle, her eyes shut softly and her head loosely hanging to the side. Steve quickly knelt down as well and took her wrist, feeling for a pulse. He didn't get one.

"We need medical attention, now!" Steve called into his communicator, but got no response.

"I think our signal is jammed," Tony said under his breath. "I'll take her."

"No, I've got it," Steve insisted.

"Come on, Cap, you don't always have to be the hero." Tony shifted his eyes down, but the look on Steve's face stopped him from saying anything else in protest. "...fine. Take her. Quick." Steve scooped her up and ran out of the fog of dust as fast as he could, holding her close to him. He heard some more garbled speaking in his ear which sounded vaguely like Clint, though he hardly paid it any attention. All that mattered at that moment was getting Annabelle somewhere to revive her. He only hoped it wasn't too late.


	26. Book I Ch 26

_Annabelle_

I remembered Steve's arms.

It wasn't a recent memory, but it wasn't too far, either. The last time I had felt them like this was many months ago, when I was only half aware, half alive—maybe not even alive at all. He'd carried me then like he carried me now, close and desperate, like if he let one finger slip I'd be gone. Maybe I would. My heart had never ached this badly, my blood pooling in unnatural places inside and out of my body. I felt like I couldn't breathe, like everything was being pushed and squeezed in all different directions. I felt so close to death, but I wasn't afraid. Oddly enough, I felt that things were going to be okay, even when I lost feeling in my arms and legs, and my vision eventually faded away. I would be alright. They wouldn't let me die. Even as I felt death approaching, I knew they couldn't possibly after all we'd been through.

This wasn't the first time I'd felt death so strongly. I remembered it from the Chitauri attack a few years back, when everything was cold, without color, and completely suffocating. I felt like I was slipping, slowly losing myself. It was as if my soul was being torn out of my physical body. I was only semi-conscious of the alien weapon still speared through my chest, though not aware enough to think to remove it. I wanted to thrash and scream, break free of the awful feeling, but I couldn't move. I wasn't even strong enough to open my eyes and see the person who had scooped me up and pulled the weapon out, the one who tried to run me to safety before it was too late. All I wanted then was for the pain to stop. And then...nothing. It's bizarre to feel absolutely nothing. It's like being suspended in time, or existing in a completely separate realm. It should be scary, but it isn't. It's nothing. I felt nothing. I was nothing. That's what death was like. I felt it then, and I felt it now.

But, I woke up then. Something pulled me back out of that lull and I sputtered awake, all the pain and horrors spilling into me as I was forced back into the real world. I hated it then. I didn't want to live anymore. I was completely content in that lull. But my father revived me, took everything I was and made me forget it. Perhaps that's why it was so bad, waking up the first time. I woke up a different person. I wasn't the same Annabelle.

This time, however, when I found myself being pulled out of my quiet lull of death, things were different. I couldn't get my eyes open, nor muster up enough strength to move a single muscle, but I didn't need to. The colors that I felt, that sixth sense of mine, were so vibrant around me that I could easily tell where everything was. Downstairs I felt the brilliant gold light of Thor, sitting in a room that was most likely the kitchen, because I could see the humming electrical light of the appliances near him. Natasha and Clint resided in the same room a bit farther away from him, both sitting in close proximity to each other. Steve was a few doors down from myself. As for the two remaining men, I found that they were in the exact same room as me, hovering nearby. Bruce's energy, which was a dull color somewhere between a deep blue and violet, popped with sudden surprise.

"Annabelle?" I heard him ask after a moment, moving closer to me. Tony followed behind. I took a moment to breathe, one deep breath in and out. It was strange how awake I felt, and strange that I was in this building that, so far, I didn't recognize. My last memory was that of Steve picking me up, and that felt like it was only a moment ago. I had to wonder how long I'd been asleep between then and now.

I inhaled deeply again before forcing my eyes open. The light above me was too bright, washing away the features of Bruce as he leaned over me, his curly hair pushed out in all directions as if he hadn't combed it for days. I squinted and lifted one weak arm over my face.

"J, turn the lights down a bit," I heard Tony say. I waited, then hesitantly lifted my arm again. The light was dimmed significantly. Though any light at all was still too much for me at the moment, this was better than before.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked quietly. I opened my mouth to speak, moving my jaw around a bit to make sure I still could before answering.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, you're alive. That's a good sign," Tony commented from behind Bruce.

"Do you feel different?" Bruce asked again.

"I feel...like I can see clearly." I focused again on all of the colors I could feel swarming around the building, even outside the building, if I tried hard enough. I hadn't felt them this strong in a very long time. Realizing that this wasn't something the men could understand, though, I quickly rethought my answer. "I mean that my abilities feel stronger. Much stronger."

"So it worked after all…" Bruce leaned back a bit and let out a breath of relief. "We weren't sure if we were doing the right thing."

"What did you do?" I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer. That mechanical hum, the unsteady beats of my heart, was no longer there. It beat normally—fast, but normal for me. Nothing was clouding my abilities.

"We removed the metal from your heart. We weren't going to, but you kept waking up, screaming about it before passing out again. We thought maybe it was the reason you couldn't fully wake up. You were close to death as it was—we thought we might as well give it a shot," Tony explained. Bruce nodded in agreement.

"Your tests came back from the SHIELD lab that said you had uncanny regenerative abilities. I suppose we already knew that, but having lab proof eased my mind a bit. We wouldn't have taken it out completely if it wasn't for those tests. We probably would have just repaired it," he said.

"But, lucky for you, the tests supported the idea that you could repair your heart and the rest of the damage," Tony added with a small smile. I lifted a hand and set it over my chest, which I didn't realize until now was mostly bare besides a large bandage wrapped around my torso and a robe draped over my shoulders. From what I could see, that large, ugly scar that stuck out so prominently on my chest was gone. In fact, as I lifted my arms to examine them, still in a bit of a lull, I realized all of my scars were gone.

"It was kind of a shame, though, taking it out. I didn't know your father was so good with mechanics. That thing was incredible," Tony continued, bringing my attention back.

"Did you keep it?" I asked, using my elbows to slowly push myself up. Bruce wrapped an arm around my back to steady me.

"Yeah, I'm keeping it. Going to tinker with it a bit, if you don't mind," Tony said. I nodded.

"Do whatever you want with it. Just don't put it back in me."

"Will do. It really is an interesting little thing. The metal is like nothing I've ever seen before." He trailed on to himself, his eyes drifting, his mind lost in thought.

"We should let everyone know she's up, Tony. Especially Steve." Bruce said. He looked down at me with those kind eyes. "He was beside himself when he brought you out of the rubble. He was convinced you were dead and it was his fault for not helping, or keeping you back from the fight. I think he really cares for you." My heart fluttered, my real heart, which was a strange feeling that I was unable to experience with the mechanical limitations I'd been living with before.

"Hey, we all do," Tony added. "You're part of our little family now, whether you want to be or not."

"I want to be," I said, finally sure of it. I hadn't been able to decide what I wanted before, but for the first time since I'd gotten here I finally felt like I'd be able to stay. After all I'd been through here, I couldn't imagine going back to my father, like I had originally planned. That, and I realized that no matter how dangerous I was, no matter what threats I posed, they would find a way to handle it. A seed of worry had been planted in my mind by Kathrine, though, who had warned me about the full potential of my powers. Now that the piece my father implanted in me was gone, would I be even more unpredictable? Would I be consumed by emotions I couldn't control? My father's last words to me rang loud and clear: _this is bigger than the both of us._ My abilities were too much for anyone to control.

Bruce and Tony exchanged a look, then Tony smiled, unaware of my internal conflict.

"We'll get you a permanent room at the tower. You can decorate it how you like, all that jazz. Sound good?"

"I think I want to try to find my own place," I said, doubt still weighing on me. I'd participate in what they wanted me to, but living in close proximity to them like that seemed unnecessarily dangerous.

"Why would you want to do that?" he asked, almost sounding offended.

"You have so much technology there and it gives me a headache sometimes," I said, avoiding expressing the rest of my inner dialogue. It was true that electrical waves took their toll on me, though I'd tried to ignore it while I was staying at the tower. Before I had my memories back, I'd just assumed my nausea was from the accident. I knew better now.

"When I rebuild the tower I could build you a whole section for your needs. Limited appliances, archaic technology. Would that be alright?" I'd almost forgotten that Stark Tower had been destroyed, the image of that giant alien creature flashing through my mind. My heart leaped at the thought. Those fangs had been so huge, dripping with thick saliva, that tongue snaking around through the air...I couldn't think about it.

"...you'd do that for me?" I asked quietly, remembering his question. He nodded.

"Sure. After all, I'm thinking this time around I'll remodel it for everyone. An Avengers tower, you know? It's the least I can do. It'll have everything that everyone needs."

"Sounds like a big project, Tony," Bruce said, pushing his glasses into his breast pocket. I hadn't realized he'd released my shoulders; I was sitting up just fine on my own.

"Of course we'll have to stay in different places until it's finished. I've got my place in Malibu. Bruce, you can stay there too."

"Oh, no thanks. Don't want to wreck anything there. I'll find a place."

"I'll help with that. Let's see—Steve has his place. Thor has his 'Asgard.' That just leaves you, Annabelle."

"Like I said, I'll find a place."

"Or, how about this, you could room with Steve." He raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands to point at me in somewhat of a mocking gesture, a playful grin on his face. I didn't crack a smile, though it took an effort not to.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not."

"I appreciate you trying to get us together, I guess" I slowly slid myself off the side of the cot I was laying on, the solid ground cold on my bare toes, "but you can't just force these things. I'm fine." I tied the robe loosely around my waist, making sure I was all covered before heading for the door. The robe was nice; it wasn't one of those unflattering medical robes that left your backside completely exposed, thank goodness. I didn't look half bad for someone who almost died, though I didn't want to think about what shape my hair was in.

"Okay, but you definitely just confirmed you'd want a relationship with him. You heard that, right Bruce?"

"Oh, no, I'm staying out of this, Tony."

"You always stay out of it."

"There's a reason for that."

I slipped out while they were still talking, though I was sure they noticed me leave. I stopped in the hall and waited for them to run after me, pull me back in to lay down, but no one came. It seemed they were letting me go, for once. I moved quickly down the hall, having a little difficulty getting my feet to move in the direction I wanted them to. Using the wall to steady myself, I eventually found my way to a large metal door, or, as I saw it, the door that Steve was hidden behind. I brought my fist up and gave a few gentle knocks, my heart sputtering uncontrollably. I'd forgotten how spastic the natural heart could be. It was almost annoying. Almost.

Steve pulled the door open, a surprised look on his face as his blue eyes fell on me. Those glorious blue eyes…

"Annabelle? You're up. Are you supposed to be up?" he asked slowly.

"They didn't stop me when I left," I answered. "I'm feeling pretty okay."

"You don't feel faint at all? You've been in such a bad condition all this time, maybe you want to—"

"I'm okay, Captain," I interrupted. "I've come to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For bringing me to safety."

"Anyone would have done it. No one would have left you there in the rubble. No need to thank me."

"During the Chitauri attack, you saved me. Do you remember?" He scrunched his brow, a sure sign that he didn't. I elaborated: "I was there. I fought. I died. You picked me up. I…didn't see you. But I just have this feeling, like I know it was you."

"I picked up a lot of people. That whole day was…a mess."

"Do you believe me?"

"I don't have a reason not to. I'm sorry I don't remember."

"It's okay." I fumbled around with the edge of my robe, running my fingers repeatedly across the fabric. "I didn't remember it until now anyway. My whole life—my whole timeline is just a jumbled mess of…" I trailed off, looking up at him. "That's not the point, though. I just heard that you were feeling bad about what happened to me, so I came to thank you and tell you that it's all fine. I'm okay. Tony and Bruce resolved the problem. I'm even feeling better than I have since I met you all. So, there's no need to worry."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Thanks for letting me know."

I nodded my head, though I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to embrace him. I pulled at the side of my robe a bit more roughly, stopping myself. That would be inappropriate. It would make me look stupid. I never wanted to look stupid, especially in front of him.

"Where are we?" I asked, hoping to distract myself from my own thoughts. I wasn't sure if it was because he had saved me, or because I'd just woken up from near-death, or some other strange reason, but I'd never been so attracted to him. And that was saying something, considering he had been my idol for years of my life.

"Safe house. Tony requested it."

"Are we still under attack?" My mood sank a little at the thought. If all of our efforts had been for nothing, I didn't know what I'd do.

"No, no. We won." He smiled a little, a smile that absolutely melted my stupid heart. "After you brought that thing down the rest of them started to get really spastic. We took one more down while they were in bad shape, and then they retreated. Right back into the sky."

"Hopefully they've realized they aren't welcome here," I mumbled.

"What did you do? To the big one, I mean. It didn't look like you were doing anything—you both took a fall pretty suddenly." He searched my face, eyes somewhat squinted, looking for an answer as if he could see it in my eyes. I took a deep breath, thinking back to my last attack. I hadn't realized what I was doing at the time, but the motions were just there, ingrained in my brain.

"I ripped its soul out," I answered softly. I could still hear the screams of the creature in my head, the screams of something being ripped away from itself. My body shuddered.

"Ripped its soul out?" Steve repeated, a peculiar look on his face.

"I can't explain it to you. You don't see the things I see. But…there's two parts to every person—the physical body, and the soul. I guess. I don't know if what I see is actually a soul, or maybe a consciousness, or…" I trailed off again, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to think. How could I explain something so incredible to someone who couldn't experience it?

"Hey, don't strain yourself. It's alright. We'll talk about it when you're well. If you even want to talk about it, that is. I was just curious." He put a hand on my shoulder, my body shuddering again at the touch. I nodded my head once.

"Annabelle Green!" Thor's voice bellowed down the hall. He came towards us with his arms wide open, a brilliant smile on his face. He grabbed me in a monstrous hug, nearly crushing my weak body.

"Hey, Thor, not too hard," Steve said, though he looked half amused. Thor released me, but kept a hold on my shoulders.

"You were brilliant in your first battle!"

"I—oh, thank you," I responded, a little taken aback. He beamed, the white of his teeth almost blinding.

"I was hoping you would wake before I took my leave."

"Leave? You mean back to Asgard?"

"Yes. Dark things are happening, and I must leave this world and return to help my own. It is my hope that nothing drastic has occurred in my absence."

"Well, best of luck." I said. I smiled and brought a hand up to pat one of his, which still had a firm hold on my shoulder. His palms were warm.

"When will you be back?"

"I cannot say. But soon, I hope. I will come whenever my friends here are in need of me." He gave my shoulders a great squeeze before releasing me, nodding at Steve.

"We'll see you soon," Steve said with a nod in return. Thor flashed one last smile before moving around me, departing through a door farther down the hall. I lifted a hand to wave, though I wasn't sure if he saw. I focused in on his energy outside, watching it until it suddenly vanished, as if sucked up into the sky. Perhaps that's exactly what had happened. There was a strange sort of mist that hung around where he'd been, like something had scooped him up and taken him away while leaving some of itself behind.

"Green." Tony poked his head out of the door to the room I'd woken up in, which was only a few doors away. It had seemed much farther when I walked it just a few minutes earlier. That was probably because my body and mind were disoriented, distorting things.

Bruce peeked out from behind him, giving one of his shy smiles.

"Still feeling okay, Annabelle?" he asked, to which I nodded and gave him a lazy thumbs up. Tony made his way fully out of the room and closed the distance between us, draping an arm around my shoulders.

"So. Let's talk real estate. What kind of place are you looking for? Big? Small? With a big, muscular roommate?" He raised an eyebrow at me and shot a look at Steve, who didn't seem to be following.

"Small is fine. Somewhere close, but not too close. I don't want you dropping in all the time," I said with a smirk, trying to ignore the latter half of his comment. Tony made a face.

"Me dropping in all the time would be a blessing. You just don't want to admit it."

"Oh, yes, you caught me."

"My building might have a place or two for rent," Steve offered, to which Tony nearly lost it. I gave him a good whack on the back of the head, though it wasn't very hard due to the fact that my arms were still weak.

"I'll have to look into it," I said, looking over at Steve.

"Do you need to borrow any money?" Tony asked. I bit my lip. Of course I hadn't even thought of money. That was how stupid and out of it I had become. Not to mention I, as a grown woman, had never really needed to worry about my own money—everything was my father's. My mind, my body, my actions, my things...all of it had always belonged to him, and he commanded everything I did with them. But, not anymore.

"No," I said slowly, "I've got it covered." This was a lie, of course. The best idea I could come up with was to get a job, though I wasn't really sure how to go about that. There were so many things I needed to figure out, simple things, before I'd be able to really face the real world. But I'd figure those things out on my own. I didn't need the help.

"Just say the word and I'll help you out," he assured. I nodded in thanks. "And it won't be for long. Like I said, I'm hoping on getting the Avengers Tower started pretty quickly. I've already called Pepper, and she's on her way to help." Pepper Potts. I couldn't wait to meet the woman crazy enough to date Tony Stark.

"Avengers Tower?" Steve asked.

"Oh, Cap, just wait. It'll be great. It'll blow your old-man mind."

"I don't doubt that," he said, an amused expression on his face. I ran a hand through my mess of hair, zoning out on the conversation. This was it. This was my place. These were my new people. And honestly, I'd never felt so content. But there was still a part of me that felt uneasy, a part that I couldn't quite focus on. Was I scared? My life was about to change forever. Or, maybe it already had, and I was only just catching up to it.

"I'm going to get some fresh air," I said, crossing the hall to get to the door from which Thor exited. Just as before, no one followed. I pushed the door open and was hit with a rush of chilled winter air, though it wasn't nearly as cold as what I had felt at our last safe house. Instead, this cold was almost refreshing. I pulled the robe tighter around me and walked down the steps, looking out at the empty field surrounding me. I couldn't see far with the low clouds that were rolling in, but I didn't need to. No one was out there. There was no threat. I let out a breath, fog billowing from my mouth. A handful of tiny snowflakes danced down from above me, melting as they hit my skin. Bringing a hand to my chest, I let my eyes fall closed. For once in a very long time, I felt relaxed. Whatever came after this would be rough, and what came before was too painful to think about. But now, in this moment, I was at peace.

I felt Steve approach before he spoke, his steps quiet as he came to a standstill next to me.

"It's cold," he said. I nodded. "Feels kind of nice, though, doesn't it?" I nodded again.

"I feel like everything is going to be okay," I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear me.

"Yeah," he replied, "me too."

 _This is only the beginning._


	27. Book I Ch 27

_Chitose, Hokkaido, Japan_

Kathrine Zindel walked down the busy early-morning sidewalk, glancing between the many shops and businesses in search of one place specifically. She held up a small, crinkled sheet of paper, reading an address off of it one last time before folding it and sliding it into her pocket. She crossed the street and turned into one of the buildings. It was a small café, wedged between two other smaller shops, though the décor inside made it appear much larger. As she took her seat at a table near the back a young woman rushed to serve her.

"Welcome. How may I help you?" she asked, her Japanese somewhat slowed on account of Kathrine's foreign appearance.

"Just tea, thank you," Kathrine responded, flashing the woman a smile. She bowed her head and exited through a door to the back, which swished as she passed through it. Folding her hands into her lap and leaning back, Kathrine exhaled.

"They took the blinder out. She's already healed and fully functioning," she spoke in English, her voice low and barely audible.

"I figured they would," a male responded, his words thick with a German accent. He was sitting at the table directly behind her, a newspaper up to his face and a hat pushed down over his hair.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"It shouldn't be. In fact, I think it may even be an added bonus. A great help to the plan, if you will. Since the rest of the plan has gone to hell."

"We had no way of knowing that waking her up would attract such hostile attention. Whatever those were, they must have been close to Earth in the first place and managed to sense her the moment she used her abilities again. Just an unlucky circumstance. It has been handled, and we can move on."

"And the failed attempt to trigger her at the base? That was a perfectly good opportunity that was blown."

"She has more of a handle on her emotions than I first figured. The fabricated incident with the ornament should have set her off. And I issued the command through Miss Taylor. But, no matter. We've reassessed the situation. Perhaps it was better to wait anyway. Things will work out."

"Good to hear." The man paused a moment, sipping his beverage and flipping the page of his newspaper. Two young women were chattering at each other in Japanese behind the counter.

"You've returned her memories?" he asked.

"Most, but not all. She doesn't know about the letters."

"And her mother?"

"She doesn't know the circumstances of that, either. Not entirely."

"Excellent. I'd say things from here can progress quite smoothly. Wouldn't you?"

"I suppose they can." Kathrine cut off her words, plastering the smile back on her face as the woman returned with her tea. She waited for her to exit again before taking a long drink. "They've really taken a liking to her, I think."

"Of course they have. What's not to like?"

"All those years of training did her well. She can charm anyone without blinking an eye."

"Much like yourself?"

"Hers is luck and practice. Mine is a gift."

"Ah, yes, excuse me. And such an excellent gift it is. I envy you."

"You shouldn't. For most I think it would be quite a burden."

"But not for you."

"I don't have some of the limitations most do. My gift is perfect for me. Just as it should be." She finished off her tea, sliding the cup to sit at the center of the small table. "I should get going. More updates will come as things happen."

"We must be patient now. She's such an unpredictable child. But I'm sure she'll be just as useful as we hoped once we get to the next phase."

"I agree completely." She stood, tucking her shirt in the few places it had pulled out. "Have a nice morning."

"You as well, Miss Zindel."

Kathrine left her money on the table, placing it just under the cup, before turning towards the exit. As she passed the man she stepped a bit to the side, her hand brushing across the fabric of his shirt.

"Hail Hydra." She crossed the room and left the building, the door chiming as she went. The man chuckled and folded his newspaper, pulling his hat off and setting it beside him on the table. His mossy green eyes glimmered, a crooked smile growing on his aging face.

"Hail Hydra."


	28. Book II Pt I Ch 1

_March, 2014_

"The left, back engine is where you're having an issue," I said, hand pressed firmly to the metal wall.

"Which number?" Maria asked.

"Let me see the map again."

She handed me a folded up sheet. I smoothed it out and looked it over, my eyes skipping across the various numbers and labels. It was hard to read when I was trying to focus on my second vision, but I was somewhat managing. It was this 'second vision', my sixth sense, which allowed me to see and feel energy signatures emitting from every living being and every electrical thing on the planet, in moderation. I wasn't totally sold on calling it 'second vision', but Tony had insisted on having a name, and that was the best we had so far.

"Number seventeen," I said, after finally forcing my eyes to focus on the drawn out map. With my hand pressed to this wall I could track the energy of the machines running this ship, and that one near the back had a strange skip to it that didn't seem normal.

"Seventeen? We just checked seventeen this morning," a young agent argued from behind Maria.

"If she says it's seventeen, then it's seventeen." Fury's voice seemed to echo around the room as he stepped in from the hall. His hands were clasped behind his back, that black duster of his nearly brushing the floor as he joined us. His presence was always huge, no matter the situation. I no longer questioned why he was in charge.

"Yes, sir," the young agent muttered, taking his leave.

"Hill, go supervise. Make sure everything gets done," Fury ordered.

"Sir." Maria nodded, following after.

"Thanks for trusting my diagnosis," I said, letting my hand drop to my side.

"Well, you've proved your abilities time and time again. I trust you," he responded. I took a deep breath and tried to stifle the touched smile that crept onto my lips. Compliments, especially coming from the Director of SHIELD, were always a nice surprise—especially to someone like me, who had gone so many years with only fake compliments, courtesy of the men who wanted to bed me at my father's gatherings. Those compliments weren't real. These were.

"Trust means a lot. Thank you," I said, even though this couldn't convey what I was feeling. He seemed to understand.

"Soon, with your help, we'll have all the kinks worked out of these new helicarriers," he said with a smile.

"I think they have fantastic potential."

"Let's hope you're right." He nodded at me, indicating the conversation was over, and, with one swift movement, was heading out the door again. He wasn't a man of many words, but that was fine by me. As soon as he was gone I collected a few sheets of paper from the table nearest to me, tucking them under my arm and heading for the door. I'd been working on the SHIELD helicarriers for several weeks now, living on-site. I couldn't wait to get back to my apartment and sleep in my own bed, where I wasn't being monitored at every possible moment. But, it was thanks to SHIELD giving me the job that I was even able to afford the apartment at all, so I was grateful none the less.

It had been almost six months since I'd found myself in front of Stark Tower that night, battered, beaten, and confused. I felt like it had been an eternity ago, though. It was hard for me to believe that less than a year ago I was sitting alone in that huge house in Japan, unaware of my abilities and wondering why there was so much I couldn't remember. I still wondered sometimes where I would be if I'd have behaved. If I hadn't have gotten upset that day, if I hadn't detonated that bomb in my father's workspace, I would still be there. I shivered at the thought. I liked it much better here, where I had company, and where I was allowed to be myself. For the most part, at least.

After the alien invasion that nearly left me dead, Tony and Bruce had removed the mechanical casing enclosing my heart and unleashed the full potential of my powers. Everything became so vibrant, so breathtaking, like everything I'd lived up to that point was just a foggy memory. Sometimes, it seemed almost too bright, too overwhelming. Still, I couldn't thank them enough, even though I tried. They were up to their knees with cakes and other treats that I baked them whenever I had the time, desperately trying to show my gratitude in the only way I could think of. I think they got the point. There were so many things I had to be thankful for, I just couldn't help myself. Kathrine returned my memories, Steve found me an apartment a floor above his, and Tony helped me create a 'superhero' suit of my own in case I ever needed to use it. Everything was going great. Truth is, I was wondering when it was all going to go sour again.

"Boo!" Naomi Taylor suddenly grabbed my sides from behind, seemingly appearing out of nowhere with her cat-like stealth. I, however, had felt her coming a mile away.

"Good morning, Naomi," I said pleasantly, arching my neck to look back at her. She puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, a gesture that was all too common.

"I don't trust someone I can't scare."

"Yes you do," I stated, fully turning to face her. Her brown hair was pulled up into its usual messy bun, her skin looking slightly more tanned than usual. She kept a stern face for a moment, staring at me, then let a smile creep onto her lips.

"Fine, yeah. Whatever, Annie." She knew I hated the nickname.

"You're a piece of work."

"Pridefully so." She clapped her hands onto my shoulders, her smile growing. "How have you been? I hear Fury's been working you like a dog."

"Not really. I've just been locating machines that aren't working properly, finding electrical issues, fixing the things that I can. It's really just busy-work, not challenging." I glanced down at the papers under my arms. They were schematics, various maps and details about the machines running the giant, flying ships. I'd never been on one that flew yet, though. To my disappointment.

"He still doesn't trust you to do field work?"

"I thought he did. But, I guess I just need more time to prove myself." I tried to say this casually, like the fact that I hadn't been given a real mission wasn't constantly on my mind. Fury was always saying he trusted me these days, and yet…

"Please, you've done plenty," Naomi snorted.

"But, I'm not an agent."

"It's about damn time you become one. Or, even better, an Avenger. Then you and your boyfriend can fight crime together." I flushed, knocking her shoulder. Naomi and I had become close after Fury requested I spend time working for SHIELD and away from the rest of the Avengers. It was easy to transition. After all, the Avengers had their own problems to deal with. After the invasion, Thor returned to Asgard to resolve some sort of issue. 'Something small, I am sure,' he'd said. But, as it turned out, that 'something small' involved a race of elves crashing their ship onto Earth and causing mass terror. Typical. Thor managed to handle it and returned to his home before I could even say hello. Although, I did get sent in to deal with some of the aftermath, including picking up the pieces of the alien ship he'd demolished as well as taking care of a giant creature he'd somehow transported to Earth. I guess I didn't mind the work. Besides, I grew quite fond of the massive creature by the time we found a way to send it back. It was like a giant puppy.

Tony dealt with some problems of his own while I was away, and there were even rumors that he had been killed. I remember I could hardly breathe when I heard the news that his home had been destroyed, and he was declared missing—I thought I was going to have a heart attack. But, just as Thor resolved his own conflict, Tony rose above his villainous menace and saved the day. Alone. For a superhero team, the Avengers didn't seem to help each other out of rough situations. Not that they needed the help, of course, but it wasn't what I expected. From my time with them I'd gathered that they were like a close-knit family. I guess I was wrong.

SHIELD, however, had become my new, temporary family. Naomi and I spent a lot of time together after she took me in and showed me the ropes; all of my animosity towards her had been cleared after it had been explained to me that she and Steve had been engaged in pressure point training at the bunker that day, and not, as I had wrongly assumed, romantically involved with each other. That had been an embarrassing conversation that I wished I could forget.

On the lines of forgetting things, I had begun to see Kathrine a lot now that I was at SHIELD. She proposed that I have a weekly session with her to cope with the memories she'd returned to me, which was actually helpful despite my original unease. Turns out she wasn't just a gifted agent—she was also highly trained in psychoanalysis and therapeutic practices. She was a woman of many talents, clearly. I talked with her about how I was feeling, what I was experiencing, and poured out my thoughts to her. I should have been uncomfortable with someone knowing so much about me, but Kathrine always made me feel so calm, and I trusted her to keep the information between us. Naomi, on the other hand, had proven the opposite for herself. I'd let it slip one afternoon my feelings towards Steve, and by the next day I was basically the laughing stock for the few friends I'd managed to make at the base. After that, I refused to tell Naomi a thing. At least, nothing embarrassing like that.

"Did you meet the new engineer?" she asked, snatching the papers out from under my arm before I could move to stop her. She looked them over before deciding they were boring and throwing them back in my direction. I almost didn't catch them all in time.

"No, I didn't," I said, a bit flustered from all the papers.

"He's hot."

"Is he?"

"Super hot."

"Are you going to go after him?" I finally got all the papers back together and facing the right ways, tucking them under my arm a bit more tightly this time.

"Nah, he's not my type."

"I thought 'hot' was exactly your type."

"Don't be rude," she snapped, but it was lighthearted. She knew I was right. As I'd learned, Naomi had a tendency to go after attractive men without thinking. It had, as she noted, gotten her in many uncomfortable situations. One of those situations ended with her getting a tramp-stamp of a cobra, which she swore up and down she regretted. I, however, could tell she was actually quite fond of it.

We exited the room together and headed to the west building, where I was currently staying. It was a decent enough space to live; all of the rooms were identical, and were provided for all on-site agents in the area. They weren't big rooms, but they were just enough space to get everything you needed done. I didn't have any complaints. Plus, the community kitchen was nice.

"So what are you going to do now?" Naomi asked as we entered through the large double doors, a wave of warmth hitting us. It was surprisingly cold for a March evening, and the heater was turned on high. I'd been somewhat used to the cold after living in Hokkaido for much of my life, where the cherry blossoms didn't even bloom until the end of the season and the temperatures stayed on the lower side. However, I had hoped that living here would be different. I wanted to bask in the heat of the spring and summer sun, like I'd seen in the movies. It was a bit stupid of me, but it sounded so nice.

"I'll probably just sit in my room," I admitted.

"And do what?"

"Read, maybe. I've blown through a lot of books."

"Ooh, I bet you're the type of girl that loves romance books. The really heavy, sexual ones. Am I right?" She nudged me, but I rolled my eyes. I also, clearly, regretted telling her anything about my previous sex life. She'd done nothing but try to hook me up with random men since.

"I've been reading manuals and textbooks left here from the SHIELD academy."

"Ugh, gross."

"I like learning." I fidgeted with the papers under my arm again, mumbling. Naomi was cool, in a way that made everyone like her, and I was afraid one of these days she was going to realize I was boring and drop me. Since she'd become one of my only friends, that was the last thing I wanted.

"You should come out and get a drink with me. My treat," she offered. I bit down on my lip. Would Fury want me doing that? Right now keeping his trust in me was the most important. I liked following the rules. Or, rather, I had a habit of following them due to my past. If there was one thing my father was good for, it was teaching a girl to never break any rule. Ever.

"That would be...nice," I said after consideration. She whooped, trying to snatch the papers out of my hands again. I ducked out of the way, knowing full well she was going to take them and toss them into the air to express her excitement. This, also, was a common thing for her.

"Fine, okay, go drop off your stuff and we'll get going. I'm so excited."

"I know. I can feel it," I said quietly, then shook my head. She didn't realize that her sudden spike of emotions gave me a raging headache, especially when her aura was so uncharacteristically bright. Then again, how could she? I'd never admit it. I didn't want her to try to tone down her emotions just for me. I wasn't worth that.

We continued down the hall and then up a few flights until we got to my floor. As we approached my door I felt a tingle on the back of my neck, a familiar jolt of electricity, and my heart leaped in my chest. I picked up my pace, passed Naomi, and quickly pulled open my door. Usually I'd have used my keycard—a tiny ID that SHIELD gave everyone who was staying at their facility—but my excitement got the best of me. Besides, an electrical locking system stood no match against me.

"—the hell?" I heard Naomi ask, still far behind, but I was staring straight ahead and into my room.

"Tony," I said in surprise, meeting the man's eyes. He sat in my desk chair, feet up, that familiar grin plastered on his face. His hair looked different, shorter, but not bad. Actually, it was hard for me to believe anything would look bad on Tony Stark.

He kicked back from my desk and stood up, arms out, grin widening.

"Long time no see, Green. I love what you've done with the place," he said. I almost opened my mouth to explain that I had not, in fact, changed anything about the room since they'd given it to me, but then I realized it was sarcasm. Naomi was pretty sarcastic herself, but no one was on the same level as Tony. I missed it.

"What are you doing here?" I looked him over, my eyes widening. "Your...is your arc reactor gone?" I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it sooner. That little glowing ball of energy was just as much a part of Tony as his own aura was, and its absence was a little stunning.

"Yeah, it was about time to get it out. I'm all fixed. Squeaky and brand new." He smiled, dropping his arms. Was I supposed to hug him? I'd assumed it was just one of his grand gestures.

"Hey, look what the cat dragged in," Naomi said, finally caught up.

"Oh, Annabelle, tell me you haven't been hanging out with this sorry excuse for a woman," Tony said. Naomi snorted, a nasally, gross sound.

"You're one to talk."

"You're so right. I am a sorry excuse for a woman as well."

"Such a hypocrite."

"I do so love the banter," I interrupted, "but you didn't answer my question, Stark, come on. Why are you here? What brought this on? I haven't seen you since SHIELD scooped me up nearly five months ago."

"What, can't I visit my friend?" he asked.

"You could have, you know, months ago."

"I've been busy."

"So I've heard." I set the papers down on my desk table, realizing I was still clinging to them. "Does Fury know you're here?"

"Fury? Please, you haven't been sucked into his rules, have you?"

"She has," Naomi said before I could speak. I shot her a look.

"I just really don't want to mess this up. I have a lot to prove. And I want to be a part of this...all of this. I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Sure you do. That's part of why I'm here." He stepped forward, an excited twinkle in his eyes. "I finished it."

"Finished what?" Naomi asked, but I already knew: Avengers Tower.

"Are you serious? It's done?" I watched his eyes glimmer again as he bobbed his head up and down.

"All finished. You have to come see it. You have your own special area."

"I told you, you didn't have to do that," I said quietly, tucking my hair behind my ear. Truth is, I was so completely flattered that he'd thought of me.

"'Course I did. You're part of the family. I can't wait for you to see it. I have to get the others over, too. Make sure everything is in shape for them to move in."

"You think everyone will want to move in right away?"

"Bruce is already settled in. Thor is who-knows-where, but we'll contact him eventually. I already had an idea that his room would be a place for him to stay whenever he's in town, not a permanent residence. And Cap...well, we'll just have to see about him."

"He seems to like his little apartment," I said. Naomi nudged me.

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" She grinned. I flushed and pushed her away gently. Tony raised an eyebrow, but didn't question.

"So. Want to go see it?" he asked.

"Hey, big guy, wait a minute. She has plans. With me. We're going out for a drink," Naomi cut in, crossing her arms. "You can't just waltz in and steal my girl.

"Oh, I think I can."

"Why don't you just come with us, Tony?" I asked, hoping Naomi wouldn't be offended by the offer. She didn't look bothered.

"My treat," she explained.

"Please, if it's going to be anyone's treat, it'll be mine," Tony said, his words accompanied by one of his iconic eye-rolls. "Look at this kid. Thinking she's going to pay for Tony Stark's drink."

"Let's just get going," I cut in quickly, before Naomi had a chance to counter. As much as I loved them both, the amount of sarcastic bickering that went on between them when they were together was just too much. And, considering I already had a raging headache brewing, I didn't need the banter.

"Where are we headed? Somewhere fancy?" Tony asked.

"I was thinking that bar on the corner," Naomi responded, already walking out of the room. I assumed I was meant to follow and started after her, Tony just behind me.

He made a gross sound.

"You're going to that dump?"

"What's wrong with it? I go there all the time," she said defensively.

"Well, I don't doubt that. But seriously. It's a dump."

"I'm offended."

"Good."

"Why is it so bad?" I asked.

"It's crawling with men, and few women," Naomi started, "that's why he's being all snooty about it."

"That is not true. Plus, that doesn't matter. I have Pepper."

"Uh-huh."

We left the building, heading out towards the street. It had been a long time since I'd walked around anywhere outside. I guess it was a habit of mine to stay confined indoors; I hardly even realized I was allowed to leave. Busy streets and honking cars were overwhelming to me, anyway—I figured I wasn't missing much. Naomi, on the other hand, begged to differ.

"I seriously can't believe you haven't been here yet, Annabelle. It's the only bar that's close," she said. I shrugged my shoulders, burying my hands deep in my coat pockets to keep them warm.

"I just haven't been out much. Besides, I don't really drink." Or, at least, I hadn't made it a habit. Sure, there was plenty to drink at my father's gatherings, but I never had much. People took advantage of me anyway, and I did want to make it easier for them by getting myself drunk.

"Wait, you're twenty one, right?" Naomi looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"I'm twenty three. Don't worry. I'm legal," I muttered. She let out a sigh of relief, as if all of her plans had relied on this. I guess they kind of did. She was rarely responsible, but sometimes she surprised me.

"She's still a baby, though," Tony added, bringing a hand up to ruffle my hair. I ducked out of the way. It took way too long to get my thick mess of hair to look good, and I wasn't about to let him mess it up.

"I'm not a baby."

"Yes you are. You just don't realize it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He just means that us two are old curmudgeons, and you're like a spry young chicken," Naomi explained. Tony made an offended sound, but didn't argue. I laughed under my breath, the warmth of it creating a little cloud of fog around my face. I'd almost let myself forget how cold it was.

"Well, here we are," she said as she grabbed my arm and pulled me around in front of her, presenting the place like it was some royal palace. It was, in fact, quite the opposite. The late afternoon sun shined too brightly on the two large windows for me to see inside, but I could see a small amount through the front door, which was propped wide open. The stale smell of old cigarettes and beer wafted through the opening. There seemed to be just a few people sitting inside, at a bar that was long and dull, as if the stone hadn't been polished in a very long time. Naomi shoved me through the door and the smell was immediately amplified, nearly choking me. The man behind the bar whistled and waved, which Naomi returned with a broad smile. Clearly, she was enough of a regular here for the man to notice her.

"Yeah, it makes sense that this is your go-to place," Tony commented under his breath, but I elbowed him in the gut.

"Don't insult it, we're already inside," I whispered. He grunted in response.

"Three drinks, please! And make them all a surprise," Naomi shouted, pulling me over to a stool and forcing me onto it. I had to admit, the stool was surprisingly comfortable, and quite the opposite of what I'd expected. Tony took a wary seat next to me, holding up a finger.

"Uh, no, no surprise for me. I have a very specific taste," he said.

"Of course you do, you stuffy nut sack," Naomi countered.

"Excuse me."

The man behind the bar passed me a drink and I immediately brought it to my lips, taking a long sip. This, like the stool, was unpredictably good. I was glad I didn't have to pretend to enjoy it just to make Naomi happy.

She and Tony bickered even as they got their drinks, but I payed them no attention. This was my life now; I had to be around people who were loud and gave me headaches. But that was okay, because I loved them anyway. I was so grateful for what I had, and I wouldn't have traded it for the world. I thought again of where I would be without this, and took another long drink. I'd never go back.


	29. Book II Pt I Ch 2

Within the next few hours, Tony and Naomi were drunk. I sat quietly at my stool as they swung their arms around in grand gestures and shouted flirtatious insults at each other, throwing drink after drink in my direction so that I could join the fun. Don't get me wrong, I didn't turn them down. In fact, when measuring our drink counts, I'd had the most. Yet for some reason beyond my understanding, I didn't feel a thing. I wasn't small, so I hadn't expected just a few drinks to do the trick, but the amount I had consumed should have gotten a six-foot man drunk off his ass. I was hoping it wouldn't hit me all at once, like some weird delayed effect. Then again, that wouldn't be logical. Not that I could think logically when it came to how my body worked; I was an enigma.  
"Come on, Annabelle, come dance with me!" Naomi shouted, a little too close to my face. I brought my hand up and wiped some stray spit off of my cheek, giving her a sideways glance.  
"No thanks. I don't dance." This wasn't necessarily true—I'd danced when I was younger quite often, trained in multiple different styles that I would never use. I remembered the fluid movements of dancing reminded me of the flow of my abilities, and, more clearly, I remembered how much my mother loved the two of us to dance together. That was different. Without her, I no longer wanted to dance.  
"Come on, you're being such a party pooper!" Naomi knocked what was left of her current drink over with her elbow, the ice spinning out across the counter in all directions. Tony, catching sight of the scene, rolled with laughter.  
"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." I stood and excused myself, quickly veering out of the way as Naomi grabbed at me. I weaved through the wave of people, all of whom had filed into the bar after the sun set, and managed to make it to the women's room in one piece. Quickly pulling the door shut behind me, I stumbled right into a girl doing her makeup in the mirror. She flicked her head in my direction and gave me a death glare, to which I muttered 'sorry' and scurried into the only open stall. I leaned my back against the cold tiled wall, not daring to sit down for a rest on the toilet seat. Lord only knew what horrible substances were spattered all over that porcelain.  
Someone just outside my stall banged their fist against the door impatiently, and I held my hand up to keep the door in place, just in case.  
"Just a minute," I said, exasperated. Panic and anxiety were very quickly rising in the depths of my chest, making it hard to breathe. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sucked in as deep of a breath as I could. This restroom smelled awful, offering me little to no relief as I continued my deep breathing. The amount of people in the building was staggering, and all of their energies combined made me feel like I was going to implode. There had to be a way to control this, to block it out, but I hadn't figured out how yet. I yearned for my tiny, generic SHIELD bedroom. If I was quick enough, I could probably manage to sneak out before Tony and Naomi noticed. I could be back there, safe, in no time. But would they be upset? Would they be angry at me for leaving them behind? They couldn't expect me to stay if I wasn't enjoying myself...but what if they did?  
I took one last deep breath in before flipping the lock on the door up and pushing it open, hitting the impatient woman in the face as she was mid-knock. She shouted a curse at me, but I barely heard it. I booked towards the door and made my escape as quick as possible. Just outside the door, however, I was met with an obstacle. More people had filled the bar in the small amount of time I'd been hidden in the bathroom, the place now completely packed. I couldn't even see the exit, let alone try to make my way there. I pushed away the panic that again threatened to erupt inside of me and started squeezing through the few openings I could find between bodies. Now, just as always, I wished I had a smaller, more petite frame.  
"Hey, beautiful, where are you going? Why in such a hurry?" a man near me asked, his breath hot on my neck. Sparks flew down my spine and I stiffened, then ducked away from him. This maneuver got me an elbow to the eye from another person nearby, and I stumbled back into the crowd. It felt like I was swimming upstream in a river, the bodies endlessly entering the building and pushing me back. My throat constricted; I felt like I was paralyzed. I couldn't even see Naomi and Tony anymore. I was alone now, stuck in this mess, feeling like I was never going to get out. But I had to keep my head clear. I had to keep my abilities in check. If I didn't, a lot of people would get hurt. Ever since Tony and Bruce removed the metal from my heart, my abilities had been as unpredictable, and strong, as ever. Thinking this made me panic more, and I stood on my toes to try to see how far I was from escaping.  
Then, a hand grabbed my arm. I let out a shriek as I was pulled down to a booth, the grabby hand releasing me almost immediately. I turned my body in the person's direction, sitting defensively and ready to fight off whoever had decided to drag me down. I was met with surprisingly kind eyes–a light brown–staring me down.  
"I didn't mean to scare you," the owner of the eyes spoke, his voice soft. I backed away as far as I could, teetering on the edge of the booth. "I saw that you weren't making any progress and decided to give you a seat. I have a feeling this won't clear out for a while. Were you looking for someone?" he asked.  
"My friends. They're at the front of the bar," I explained, taking this chance to examine the guy as discretely as possible. Not only were his eyes beautiful, but the rest of him was as well. He had short hair that stuck out in curls (some longer than others) that was the sort of white blonde which seemed almost translucent. His skin was fair with a faint smattering of freckles, dimples nestled in his cheeks as he smiled.  
"I'd offer you help getting there, but honestly I don't think even I can get through this crowd," he said, leaning back and scooping his beer bottle off the table in front of him. He took a swig of it, keeping his eyes on me. "Are you in a hurry?"  
"No, no." I cleared my throat, glancing back out at the swarm of bodies surrounding us. I had to admit, I did feel much better sitting here than standing in that mass, even though the energy pulsing off of everyone was still just as strong. I turned my eyes back to him. "They'd probably be mad if I left, anyway. My friend, Naomi, she was really excited to show me this place..."  
"Do you mean Naomi Taylor?" he asked, and I looked at him in surprise.  
"You know her?"  
"I work with her. Well, kind of. It's my first day."  
"Oh!" I shifted myself to face him more directly. "You're the hot engineer?" I regretted it as soon as I spoke, my lips freezing in place as I realized what I'd said. It had come out so quickly that I couldn't have stopped it. I wanted the booth to swallow me whole as he laughed heartily. Clearly, this wasn't something that fazed him much.  
"Is that what she told you?" he asked, which I answered with a quick shrug. I'd really lost my touch; I used to be so good with men at my father's arrangements. What happened?  
The man shook his head, taking another sip of his beer. "I'll have to tell her thanks for the compliment," he said.  
"Well, she did say you weren't her type. I'd hold off on that thank you," I said, trying to relax. He laughed. A short man in a jacket two sizes too big stopped short of our table and gave me a not-so-subtle look over. I shot him a glare, forcing just enough energy into my eyes to make them flash momentarily with electrical light. The man stumbled back and disappeared into the crowd. At least the abilities were good for something.  
"So, how do you know Naomi?" Mr. Grabby Hands asked. I let my attention fall back on him, trying not to focus on the other creeps who were hanging around nearby, watching me, sizing me up.  
"I work with her, too. Although, I guess I knew her before we technically worked together." I lowered my voice. "The Avengers picked me up a while back during the last, er, alien crisis. It's a really long story. I won't bore you. I met Naomi during that. And now I'm assisting SHIELD with the uh...new toys." I wasn't sure what level this guy was—heck, I didn't even know what 'level' I was—so I tried to be discrete. He raised his eyebrows, setting his beer down again.  
"The Avengers picked you up? I take it you're not just some run-of-the-mill agent, then," he said.  
"I'm not even an agent. I'm more of just...an anomaly that they keep around for some reason."  
"Now, I doubt that. Everyone is somewhere for a reason."  
"Deep," I said with a smirk. He chuckled.  
"I'm Andon, by the way. Andon Delacroix."  
"Nice to meet you," I said, taking notice of the name. "Where are you from?"  
"I was born in France. But I've lived here since I was about twelve," he explained.  
"By 'here' do you mean Washington DC?"  
"Nah, Louisiana. This is my first time living so far from there, actually. It's new. Different. I like it."  
"That's really nice. I'm glad."  
"Are you going to introduce yourself, then, or should I just call you 'Mystery Lady'?" he asked, a grin on his lips. I flushed again, running a hand through my hair. How rude of me, diving right into his life without even giving him an introduction in return.  
"Annabelle Green," I said quickly.  
"It's a pleasure. So, where are you from?" he asked, mocking me. I smiled a bit despite my embarrassment.  
"I was born in Germany, but I've lived in Japan for much of my life up until now. My father is German and very proud of his heritage, though, so I might as well have grown up there." I bit my lip. Too much information, Annabelle. Why did I have to ramble?  
"Was your mother Japanese? Is that why you moved?"  
"Russian, actually. My father has a company in Japan, so that's where we ended up settling."  
"Sounds like you've had quite the upbringing. Lots of different cultures to explore."  
"I guess you could say that," I mumbled. It was getting harder and harder to think about my past with my father, though I couldn't put a finger on why. I guess I was coming out of my denial, and was instead just angry about the whole thing.  
"Sorry, I've apparently become awkward," I said, realizing I'd just been staring at him as I ran through my thoughts. I tried to keep my cheeks from flushing again.  
"Oh, the horror!" he said dramatically. This time I was the one who laughed.  
"It's the worst, I know," I added. He smiled.  
"I like your accent, by the way," he said. He brought his lips to his beer. I smiled a bit, more to myself than to him.  
"Thank you." He tilted his beer in my direction, as a sort of salute or 'you're welcome', then took a long swig to finish it off.  
"Look, there's your chance. Run while you can," he said. I lifted my eyes to the crowd, Andon gesturing with his empty hand to a small pathway that parted the ocean of people. I scrambled out of my seat, desperate to get out, but gave him one last smile.  
"Thanks, Andon. And it was nice to meet you."  
"You too, Annabelle. I'll see you around work, then."  
"Yeah...see you around." I lifted my hand in a wave and quickly set off through the open space, hoping it wouldn't close while I was still inside. Thankfully, I managed to make it to the door. The group of people, as I discovered, was not only crowded inside the building, but outside as well. Luckily, though, people were more widespread outside the doors, and I could easily make it through. I dared to look back over my shoulder to find Naomi or Tony, but they were nowhere in sight.  
I found my way out into the open street, distancing myself from the hoots and shouts of the crowd before finally being able to calm down. It wasn't a long walk back to SHIELD, and in no time I was crossing the hall to my room, sliding my key card in the door, and locking myself safely inside. I ran a hand through my thick hair and dropped my card on the dresser, facing the mirror on the opposite wall. Surprisingly, I didn't look disheveled at all. My hair wasn't too puffy, my skin wasn't blotchy, and my eyes were bright. Compared to how I had felt, I looked the complete opposite. Thank goodness. It would have been another thing to worry about if I'd been walking around that bar looking like hell. I picked up a large brush from my table and ran it over my hair, pulling at a few stray knots.  
My skin had gotten darker over the past few months, and I had lost that sickly, pasty look that my years of being trapped indoors had given me. I was starting to look more and more like my mother in those old pictures I had of her, before she got sick. This filled my heart with a kind of subtle pride that made me blush at my own reflection as I gave one final tug at my hair. My mother was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and to look even remotely like her made me feel that much closer to her. Even though she was gone, I could still feel her sometimes. Maybe that was a product of my abilities. Or, maybe she really was there somewhere, watching over me. I hoped she was proud at who I was trying to become.  
I set the brush down and headed back to the dresser, pulling a pair of flannel pajamas out and changing into them. I hadn't really been sleeping lately, but it didn't hurt to keep trying. I'd stay in this room, laying in bed in my pajamas until morning came, sleep or no sleep. I pulled my covers back, about to tuck myself in, when suddenly I felt something familiar. It was distant, out of reach, but there was no doubt about what it was. Outside somewhere, less than a mile away, I could feel Steve Rogers.

I looked at the clock in my room, which flashed 11:46, then turned my eyes to the window. I'd already pulled the curtains over it, but my curiosity was getting the best of me. I crossed the room and shut off the lights, then crept over to the window and pulled back the curtain to look out. After consideration, I also unlatched the window and pushed it open, leaning my arms against the frame. It was so cold by now that my throat seemed to constrict, but I didn't pull back; not yet. I scanned the dark area, only a single lamp across the way to light it up. The property behind here was meant for training agents, and had a huge track that circled around the entire back of the facility. Right now it looked empty, as it should at this hour, but I knew better.  
I watched the edge of the track until eventually Steve's dark silhouette appeared, as if out of nowhere. He was jogging, quickly making his way across the stretch of track. I had the sudden urge to hop out the window and join him, for something to do, but I refrained. Resting my chin on the palm of my hand, I watched him until I couldn't see him anymore. He rounded the far corner, and then he was gone. What he was doing out there this late, I hadn't the slightest clue. But, I didn't plan on asking him. I wasn't about to admit that I'd been watching him.  
I stayed like this for a while, freezing against the chilled wind that blew through, but unable to tear my eyes from the track. Steve ran several laps before tiring at the other end, where I couldn't see him. Then, just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone. It took a while for him to be out of my range of 'sight', and it was at least a fifteen minutes before I couldn't feel him at all anymore. He was headed back home, probably, hopefully to sleep after all of that running. Was this a nightly routine? Had I been too busy to notice him before? It had been months since I'd spoken with him, and my heart ached when I thought about the possibility of him being so close all this time. No, I was positive he hadn't been here the other nights; I'd have felt it, for sure. Besides, his apartment was back in New York, and unless he'd relocated here, he seemed a bit out of place.  
I retired to my bed and tucked myself in as previously planned, making sure to pull my window tightly shut before doing so. Only five more hours until the sun came up. Five more hours of sitting in silence, with only my own breathing to keep me company. It helped that I could feel the other agents in the rooms around me, though only faintly. Here I felt far less alone than I had at my father's, yet...I was still lonely. It was absurd to think about, what with all these people around, but I couldn't shake the feeling. Usually it was dormant, but during the night I couldn't help but think about it. Was there something wrong with me? I should have felt better here, like everything was okay. But it wasn't. Not yet. I had to figure out how to fix it. And fast, hopefully.  
The night dissolved into my thoughts as I lay there in the quiet, the wind occasionally whistling through the few cracks of my window. Tomorrow I'd be back to working on the helicarriers. Tomorrow Naomi would be back with a raging hangover, but would still try to be personable for my sake. Tomorrow I'd be able to ask permission to go see the new tower. Tomorrow, if the answer was yes, I'd get to reunite with my friends.  
Tomorrow would be better.


	30. Book II Pt I Ch 3

A few days passed before I heard from Tony. He showed up in my room, same as before, feet up on my desk again. He met me with a smile and a pat on the arm, as if the hellish night at the bar a few nights prior had never happened. From there he proceeded to lead me out of my room, out of the building, and back into the already chilly evening air that I had been so relieved to escape. All I wanted was to retire to my room and lay down for the night, even if I didn't sleep—which I knew I wouldn't anyway. It was day seven without sleep.

He ushered me into the back of a car and climbed into the driver's seat, flashing a grin back at me before he put the car in drive and set off. I was so tired I barely realized there was another woman in the car, and didn't acknowledge her until she turned her head back and spoke to me.

"Sorry if this is upsetting your evening. He insisted," she said, a kind smile on her face. Judging by her looks—the ginger-red hair and bright eyes—this seemed to be none other than Pepper Potts. I was ashamed that I hadn't noticed her. After all, I'd been dying to meet her.

"Oh, no. It's alright. I didn't have anything planned," I said. Her smile turned sympathetic.

"Having a nice night in counts as a plan, you know. See, Tony, I told you we should wait until morning. Let her rest. I'm sure SHIELD is working her like crazy."

"She's fine," Tony said, to which Pepper rolled her eyes.

"Didn't know you could read minds, Tony," I said in response.

"Don't mind his complete disregard for other people's feelings. Apparently he can't help it." Pepper turned her eyes back to me, shaking her head a little. I was in awe at how calm and kind she was, given the man she was in a relationship with. I suppose, in this case, opposites really did attract.

"Don't worry, I spent enough time with him to realize what a jerk he is. I've already gotten used to it," I said. She laughed.

"Is it 'bag on Tony night'? I didn't see that on the calendar. Jarvis, why didn't you remind me?" Tony asked.

"I can set a reminder for the future, sir, so that you won't forget when the event comes around next time," Jarvis's mechanical voice spoke from the speakers in the car.

"That was a joke, Jarvis."

"Very funny, sir."

"Thank you."

"Where are you taking me tonight?" I asked, leaning my head back against the leather seat. The city lights were already lit, even though the sun hadn't completely set yet, and the various colors of the evening flashed across my vision as we passed. I wasn't sure how fast we were going, but I was sure that it was faster than the speed limit posted. Not that Tony cared too much for traffic rules; that just didn't seem to be in his character.

"To the tower, remember? I said I was going to show you around." He put on his blinker and veered into the next lane, taking a somewhat sharp turn at the corner. I had to hold the side of the door to keep from sliding over onto my side.

"You're going to give me a tour right now?" I asked. It seemed a little late for that kind of road trip. Tony only grunted in response. I sighed and continued, "Is anyone else coming?"

"Well, Bruce will be there. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

"And Steve?"

"Is someone desperate to see Cap? Hm?" He flashed me a look in the mirror, and I did my best to keep a straight face.

"You just mentioned that you wanted to move him in. I wouldn't put it past you to have stuffed him in the trunk or something," I said, focusing my gaze back out the window at the passing streetlights.

"If you think that guy could fit in the trunk of this car, you're delusional," Tony commented.

"Maybe he's really flexible."

"I bet you'd love to find out if he's flexible." He shot me another grin, which I caught out of the corner of my eye. I could feel my cheeks redden, though I chose not to move. He didn't need the satisfaction.

Pepper smacked him on the arm.

We pulled up to the tower after a few hours, Tony parking his car in a large garage at the base. The building itself didn't look too different, minus the 'A' replacing 'Stark' at the very top. If anything, it seemed to be slightly bigger. Once out of the car he brought me inside, flanked by Pepper. The interior no doubt had the Stark touch: It was modern, clean, and reminded me of some kind of futuristic space-base. I had to remind myself that what I used to think was 'futuristic' was now the present. This world was far different than what I'd ever experienced, my father's technological experiments aside.

"Jarvis, get Banner up here," Tony called.

"Yes, sir."

"Let me take your coat, Annabelle," Pepper said, lightly touching my shoulder. I shed my jacket and handed it to her, smiling as I did, even though I was very dazed by everything this evening already. She took it and left the room, heels clicking against the hard floor as she went.

"She's sweet." I looked over at Tony, who was busy examining me. It seemed to me that he thought something about me had changed in the matter of a few months, the way he stared, but I chose not to bring it up. "How did you manage to keep her all this time?"

"Luck," he answered. I was expecting something sarcastic, narcissistic, but this was different. His love for her must have outweighed his love for himself, which seemed too crazy of a concept for me to comprehend.

"Annabelle." I turned to see Bruce approaching, a lazy smile on his face. His hair was a mess, his clothes disheveled ever so slightly. I'd missed him more than I realized.

"Bruce, it's so nice to see you again," I said, meeting him halfway and reaching out to squeeze his arm. I wasn't sure how he felt about hugs—I didn't even know how _I_ felt about hugs—so I went the safe route. His smile brightened.

"You too. Seems like it's been so long. We've had a busy few months. And, so have you, I hear. Where does SHIELD have you?" he asked.

"The Triskelion, working on helicarrier repairs and maintenance."

"Sounds like they're wasting your talents. They should have you in a lab somewhere," he said. Pepper returned to the room, going to Tony's side.

"Yeah, well," I said, watching as Tony lazily draped an arm around her, "at least it's something. Busywork is better than no work."

"I understand." Bruce gave me a sympathetic nod before turning to Tony. "Steve is in the kitchen, by the way. He stopped by when you were out fetching Annabelle."

"He came?" Tony asked, looking surprised.

"Natasha and Clint, too. You've got a whole group to tour around. Congrats."

"This is exactly what I wanted. Now all we need is Thor, and it's a full blown party." Tony removed his arm from around Pepper and made his way over to the edge of the room, where he pushed a few buttons to produce elevator doors from the wall. The doors were seamless when closed; I hadn't even realized it was there. Noticing my shock, Tony grinned.

"Get in, come on, we have to stop Cap before he eats all the food," he said, stepping into the elevator. I was the last to follow him, getting inside just as the doors shut. It shot up, though I could barely even feel it moving. In no time we were to one of the higher floors. The doors slid open and we all filed out, one after the other, like ducks. This was the main room, which was heavily based off of the original that had been part of Stark Tower. Though a lot of things were new, I still felt nostalgic as we passed the couch where I had sat that first night, beat up and scared. I brushed my fingers across the material, lingering there for a moment before following the others to the kitchen that was attached to the next room over. Just as promised, Steve was sitting at one of the counters, leaning his arms against the surface and looking all too big to fit on the stool he was situated on. Next to him sat Natasha, her red hair much longer than I remembered, and Clint was at the other side of the room rummaging through the cabinets. When he turned to see us as we entered, I could see that he had a bread roll stuffed in his mouth.

"Well, look who showed up for the tour," Natasha said, easing herself out of her seat to meet us. She grasped my arm and swung around to kiss my cheek. "It's been too long, Annabelle."

"It's only been a few weeks since I've seen you," I corrected her, remembering the last time I'd come across her in on of SHIELD's hallways.

"Details, details." The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. Behind her Steve stood up as well, joining us and leaving Clint to sift through the cabinets alone.

"Annabelle," he said warmly. "How have you been?" My heart skipped, a stupid, involuntary reaction.

"Fine, thanks. What about you? Been busy?" I asked.

"Oh, I guess. I've been watching a lot of movies, listening to a lot of weird, modern music."

"Running," I added, then flushed when he raised an eyebrow. I'd told myself I wasn't going to bring it up, but my mouth seemed to be running faster than my mind. "I saw you the other night, running in DC," I explained, wringing my hands together somewhat anxiously.

"I've been back and forth from there, on Fury's orders...what were you doing up?" I shot a look at Tony, who made a quick cutting motion across his throat and shook his head. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Pepper, I take it Tony didn't inform you that he went off and got drunk with Naomi the other night? They left me to fend for myself in a bar packed with creeps. And I ended up going home alone in the middle of the night."

"No, I wasn't informed of this." She turned her head to Tony, giving him a serious look.

"We're going to have to teach you some hand motions, Green," Tony said, copying his motion from before. "This means 'shut up'."

"I'm not that stupid," I said.

"Ha. If you're 'stupid' at all, what does that make the rest of us?" Steve asked. I blushed at the compliment. I was used to people commenting on my smarts, but among friends it was different. Just as I'd felt with Fury before, there was something so much more personal about it, like I was more than just a product of my father's own genius. It was...nice.

"Let's get this tour started," Tony said, shrinking away from Pepper's glare. He set off down the hall and the rest of us followed, listening as he introduced all the rooms. He skipped the small things, focusing only on the things we needed to know. He showed us where the bathrooms were on every floor, where the 'gym' was, where we could get food, and so on. Once we got higher up, to the top floors, he started splitting us up. We passed a floor for Natasha, Clint, Thor, the whole team. Finally, near the very top, when I was the only one in the group left, Tony revealed my floor. Right as we stepped out of the elevator I could tell it was different than the others. The halls were plain, white, and simple. The lights were dim, and large windows lined every exterior wall. The buzz of electricity that I had felt from the other floors wasn't so present here, which was relieving to say the least. I wandered down the hall, Tony trailing after.

"I wasn't sure exactly what you needed. If you need anything changed, let me know. I installed a mechanism in the walls that cause an electrical shutdown for your floor only, in case it gets too much for you. Here." He walked ahead of me and stopped before a small panel on one of the inner walls, brushing his hand over it. "There's settings here, things you can change, whatever you want. I put several of these around, so all you have to do is find them. I wasn't sure what color scheme you wanted, so I went for whites, grays and blacks. Which can be changed as well, if you prefer another color." He turned to me, waiting for a response. I shifted my eyes to the side, gazing out one of the large windows. I could see the entire city, all lit up against the darkening sky. The view was breathtaking.

"I love it, Tony," I finally managed to say.

"Good. I was hoping you would."

"You really didn't have to do all this."

"I did. You're a friend, and an ally. We wouldn't have been able to beat that invasion without you. You're a valued part of the team, even if you aren't officially part of it yet. We'll get you there. Fury is a stubborn old man."

"You're a stubborn old man," I said, turning to him with a smile. He rolled his eyes. "But, really, thank you. Thank you so much. This is far more than I could have ever asked for."

"Hey, you needed a place to call home." Home. It was a simple word, but it almost brought tears to my eyes. After my mother died, no place had felt like home. Maybe this would be different.

"Are the others spending the night?" I asked. I could faintly feel them hovering around the floors below, surely taking in their personalized floors just as I was. Tony shrugged his shoulders.

"We'll see. They're welcome to. And so are you." I nodded my head.

"I think I will. I have to be back at SHIELD in the morning, but it isn't too far. I can manage. One night, at least."

"I'll leave you to rest. Let Jarvis know if you need anything."

"Will do." I watched as he headed back to the bare wall behind him, the elevator doors materializing as he stepped closer.

"...And, Annabelle?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about the other night. Naomi and I...we didn't know you'd be so miserable."

"It isn't a big deal. It wasn't all bad," I said. I thought of Agent Andon Delacroix, with his kind smile and soft eyes. I hadn't seen him since that day, but somewhere inside I knew I'd see him again. I hoped we could become friends, eventually. Kindness was hard to come by in this world, and there was something about him, something I couldn't put my finger on, that made me eager to see him again. It was strange, but I didn't fight it.

"Have a good night, Green." Tony pressed the button on the other side of the machine, and the doors eased shut.

"Goodnight, Tony." He disappeared, and I was left with what looked to be a bare wall again. I wandered down the hall and examined the other rooms on my floor before finding the bedroom. It was a big, beautiful room, with a large bed that seemed to call me to it. I crossed the room as if in a trance, laying myself down to test it out, but finding it immediately too comfortable to leave. This was far softer than my bed at SHIELD, and I felt like I was sinking right into it. I reminded myself that I had to get up, that I had to change, wash, get myself ready to sleep, especially in these clean sheets. But I couldn't will my body to move. Then, for the first time in a week, I fell asleep.


	31. Book II Pt I Ch 4

"Project Insight?" I asked, looking down at the file that had just been handed to me. The letters were printed in bold, in a font that screamed 'confidential document.' I didn't dare look inside just yet. Instead, I lifted my eyes to look at the man who had handed it to me: Agent Jasper Sitwell. He was much higher ranked than me, I'd been told, and was running an errand for a man even higher.

"It's a big project," he explained, pushing up his glasses. He had the darkest set of eyes I'd ever seen. "We figured an agent like you would be extremely helpful," he continued. _I'm not an agent_ , I thought, but I held my tongue.

"What kind of things am I needed for?" I asked instead.

"You'll see once you read the file and see the project up close. You're already familiar with helicarriers, and you've got a grasp of energy that none of our engineers could even dream of having. It'll be quite the workload, but it will be rewarding in the end. For all of us."

"I'll get to work on it right away," I said, glad to have something new to do. Maintenance was getting repetitive. Hopefully this new project would be mentally stimulating enough to keep me busy. I'd found that I didn't know what to do with free time; all my life I'd been told what to do, how to do it, what was right and wrong…now that I was on my own I couldn't seem to find anything that made me happy. So, work was good. I knew how to take orders.

Agent Sitwell shook my hand loosely, a somewhat awkward gesture, then left me. The file felt so heavy in my hands, and my chest suddenly burned with anticipation. Regardless if they still needed me to do helicarrier repair, I was taking the rest of the day off. I made sure none of my superiors were around and then walked briskly down the hall, making it to the elevator before anyone saw me. I wasn't sure if I even needed the secrecy; a high-level agent had given me a new assignment, after all. But, I didn't want to stick around on the off chance that someone told me to work the rest of the day. All I wanted to do was return to my room—or the tower, which I had been frequenting despite the distance—and leaf through all of the papers in this file to learn all I could, so that I could get to work as soon as possible.

After a moment's hesitation, I decided on the tower. I hailed a cab, knowing full well that they wouldn't take me the entire distance—and, more importantly, that I couldn't afford to pay them that distance. Eventually I'd get out and walk. Then, when I could, I would run. Making my way down the busy streets alone gave me a chance to think, and a chance to try to cap some of the detrimental parts of my abilities. For example, a woman about a block ahead of me was hysterically sobbing over a phone call as I tried to get a taxi's attention, which in turn gave me a sinking feeling in my gut. I took this chance to try to push that feeling away, get her feelings out of my head. There had to be a way to push them out, to make my own feelings the only things that I could sense. I wasn't making great progress with it, but I wasn't about to give up just yet. I could only imagine how powerful I could become if I got a hold on some of the more distracting elements. Surely everyone would see my worth then; I'd be able to help with so much.

I was so distracted with trying to block my abilities that I didn't see Andon Delacroix until he was right in front of me, waving a hand across my line of vision. I blinked a few times, feeling a bit dazed, then focused in on his face. He gave me a toothy smile, his teeth perfectly straight and white, though his hair and clothes seemed a bit disheveled. At his side he held a bag that was crammed with various files and papers, which were threatening to spill out the edges.

"Agent Delacroix," I said, blinking one more time for good measure. I hadn't realized that night at the bar just how tall he was. He towered over me. "What are you doing here?"

"Walking to work. What are you doing here? You seem to be going in the wrong direction," he responded. A cab pulled up to the curb in front of me, but I quickly waved him on.

"Taking the rest of the day off," I said. "I got a promotion, I guess."

"A promotion? Good for you. Where are they putting you?"

"I, uh," I paused, glancing down at the file in my hands. Agent Sitwell had mentioned that the project was pretty high clearance, so telling Andon all about it probably wouldn't have been in my best interest. Before I could tuck it away, though, he caught sight of it.

"Project Insight?" he asked, as I quickly shoved it under my arm and out of reach. He raised an eyebrow at the gesture. "No need to be so flustered. I know SHIELD keeps a tight leash on its employees. Between you and me," he stepped forward and leaned down, at level with my ear, "Project Insight is what they hired me for."

"Really?" I asked, a bit too loudly. He pulled away from me, running a hand through his mess of curls.

"Yeah. Well, originally they had me doing minor stuff, training. That's how I met Naomi. But they put me on that project pretty quick."

"How did you manage that? Isn't it a high level operation?"

"They kind of just scooped me up and put me there. I don't think this is the place to talk about it, though. Eyes and ears everywhere, you know?"

"Right," I said, an uncomfortable chill running up my spine. The thought of someone watching me was always unnerving.

"I'm late. I should really go. But, tell you what, here's my card with my number." He pulled a card miraculously out of the mess of papers in his bag, flicking it towards me in a quick motion. I caught it and held it between my fingers, reading over the few words on in before looking back up at him.

"You have a business card?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He waved me off.

"Don't laugh. It's professional. I'm a professional." As if to prove him wrong, several of the papers finally spilled out the edge of his bag. He bent down to pick them all up, having them sealed back in his bag before I could even lift a finger to help.

"Right, sure."

"Call me later. We can talk about the project, if you have any questions. I obviously haven't been working on it for long, but I was briefed about it a while ago," he said. I nodded, looking back at the card. One of the corners was folded, wrinkled, which seemed to match his personality. I opened my mouth to say I'd think about it, but he was already rushing past me, his coat coming undone as he took off down the sidewalk. I followed him with my eyes until I couldn't see him anymore, until he was nothing but a tiny blurred dot among a sea of people.

"From what I understand," Andon said, setting a steaming cup of tea down in front of me on the table, "this project is supposed to change the world."

"That's what the file said, yeah," I responded, fanning some of the steam away from my face. I glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall. 9:15 pm. I'd arrived at Andon's apartment only fifteen minutes earlier, after I'd finished reading through the file and called him to discuss it. Despite what I'd expected, the apartment was extremely neat. Everything was in its place, tidy, which seemed to be in shocking contrast to what I'd seen of him so far. Then again, now that he was home and not in a hurry, his hair did look significantly less of a mess.

"What do you think about the way it works?" he asked. I took a deep breath, looking down at the cup in my hands.

"I'm conflicted about the idea," I said. After reading through everything I'd come to the conclusion that Project Insight was no side project; the idea was to build three self-sustaining helicarriers that would permanently reside in the sky, watching, waiting. They were to be equipped with certain algorithms and data to detect large threats on land and take them out from the sky before it was too late. The idea was nice, but I could see too many problems with it.

"I just feel like," I started, tapping my finger along the china, "maybe I'd have been taken out years ago if something like that was put in place."

"What do you mean?" He took a seat across from me, lacing his fingers together. It was funny how much smaller he looked when sitting.

"There's no doubt that many people could view me as a threat. If I was public, I'm sure the population would have very mixed feelings about me. So, what, if the vast majority of people thought I was dangerous, would something like that shoot me dead on the spot? I could be walking down the street one day and get struck down. Easy."

"I don't think it works exactly like that," he said, leaning back in his chair. "It'll probably be more specific, more careful. Of course SHIELD can't just be shooting people out of the sky, with their defense being, 'Oh, but we swear he was going to be a bad guy,' you know?"

"Yeah, I guess. I just don't have a good feeling about it."

"Then why take the job?"

"Well, I can't say no now." I took this chance to pause, lifting the cup up to my lips and taking a long drink of tea. "Besides," I started again, "I need something to do."

"Don't they have you running repairs?"

"Yes. Which is unbelievably boring. I'm not even an engineer. I sit around and pinpoint problems, then get other people to fix them for me. I need something stimulating, something that makes me feel like I'm actually contributing."

"So you're willing to take on a project that you don't necessarily agree with?"

"Does that make me selfish?" I lifted my eyes to look at him. I'd always helped my father with projects over the years, looking over what they were, desperate to have a chance to prove myself and my ability. It didn't matter what he was working on; I almost always helped, though I suppose I knew better than to tell him no. Thinking back on that, I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing the same thing here. My father was no longer in charge of me, but had I simply substituted him with people like Fury? People I looked up to and wanted to prove myself to no matter what? Was that really any different?

Across the table, Andon shook his head at me.

"No. I get it." He said. "You're not selfish." He left it there.

"So where did they pick you up? It's baffling to me that SHIELD just found you and put you on one of their top projects. Agents have to go through the academy, at least most of them, I think. Yet here you are. How?" I asked, hoping to shift the subject off of myself. Something within him spiked, like a sudden flash of emotion that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Not sure. I'm just a guy who likes to tinker with things. Guess they found use in that."

"You've got to be more than that," I pushed, curious about the growing unease inside of him. A man with a mystery sounded like an interesting pass time. Plus, it would be nice to hear about someone with a past that I didn't already know.

"I don't know what to tell you. SHIELD works in strange ways." He slid his finger around the surface of the table, tracing out patterns and circles. "What about you? You said the Avengers picked you up. That's pretty impressive. I still don't even know what you do."

"It's a long grueling story. I'll spare you," I said, somewhat bitterly. He wasn't willing to talk about his past...why should I?

"I'm good at listening."

"It really isn't that interesting."

"I'm sure that isn't true. You seem remarkably interesting."

"I'm really not."

"You really are." I sighed, pulling at a curl that fell near my shoulders.

"I'm a freak of nature. My mother is dead and my father despises me. I can kill things with a single touch, and I have. I'm apparently brilliantly minded, but I'm not interesting. I'm barely getting by." With my other hand I traced the rim of the tea cup, the steam licking up against the remaining fingers that were curled against my palm.

"That makes two of us," Andon said. "By barely getting by, I mean."

"You seem to be doing well for yourself." I glanced around the neat room again, then rested my eyes across the table at him.

"There's a lot that can't be seen when you only look at the surface," he said. Of course, he was right. I knew that better than anyone.

By the time I made it to the tower it was pushing eleven, many of the lights within already turned off as I approached. Since many of the floors weren't being used, the lack of light didn't seem that odd to me. Tony's dream of having everyone live in one place was slowly becoming less and less probable. Jarvis took my coat as I entered, by way of extending one robotic arm from a panel in the wall to grab it as I passed.

"You were out late," Tony said as I entered the living room. I found him leaning against the wall, an apple perched in his hand. There was a single bite out of it, like something out of a movie. Either Tony had become a vampire wannabe that waited in the night for young women, or he was being his usual, odd self. Of course, the latter was true.

"I was," I replied, leaning against the back of the couch.

"What were you doing?"

"Worried, were you?" I asked. He responded by taking another bite out of his apple, with a juicy crunch that almost made me uncomfortable, especially in the silence of the room.

"You're right, I shouldn't meddle. Stay out however late you want," he said. He leaned away from the wall, heading for the doorway.

"I was at an agent's apartment. I was given a project that he's currently working on and wanted his input," I explained, feeling a little guilty at being so short with him. I guess I just wasn't used to people genuinely worrying about me. My father had kept such a tight leash on me that I became wary of other people keeping track of me, but I realize that Tony, as well as the others, weren't doing it maliciously. They cared. They didn't want to leash me like my father had.

"His?" Tony asked. He stopped walking and turned to face me, taking another obnoxious bite.

"Is that a problem?"

"You have to be careful with men, Green. Scoundrels, all of them."

"Look who's talking."

"Hey, I'll admit to that. I've done my fair share of things." He smirked a bit at this, the red of the apple reflected in his eyes. "Point is, I don't want you getting any ideas."

"I'm not a little girl, Tony, though I appreciate it," I said. He shook his head.

"Hear me out. I'm just trying to set you up with Cap. And I can't let some agent dude get in the way of that. Got it?"

"Tony..." I mumbled, trying not to let any red escape into my cheeks. "That's ridiculous," I continued after a moment, when he didn't say anything. He only gave me that look—the one that made me uncomfortably embarrassed.

"Only if you say so. Trust me, Cap needs a girlfriend. Natasha has been trying to set him up, so naturally I have to lend my help."

"Naturally," I mocked.

"Glad you see the point." He took another bite and then hurled the apple at me. I barely had enough time to duck out of the way. Before I could ask, he held up a finger.

"Good," he said, tilting his wrist to point the finger at me, "your reflexes aren't suffering despite lack of sleep."

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" I asked, but he only gave me a ridiculous look in return.

"Goodnight, Green. Sleep well. Or don't. You do you." He lifted his hand in a wave and exited the room, leaving me with my mouth slightly agape with words that I hadn't gotten out in time. I had to wonder if he'd had a drink or two, the way he sauntered out of the room. Then again, Tony was odd even when he was sober. Being brilliant had its trade offs. I took the liberty of picking the apple up and depositing it in the trash as I passed, even though I knew Jarvis would have gotten to it eventually. Even if it was small, the gesture made me feel better. I was good. I did good things. I was worthy of this promotion. The more I thought it, the easier it was to accept.


	32. Book II Pt I Ch 5

"So," Kathrine started, sitting herself down on the couch in front of me, "how have you been feeling?"  
"Good, I suppose," I answered. This was how our sessions always started. She made us some tea, commented on the weather, then asked this question. I always answered it the same way.

"What's good about it?"

"Things with SHIELD are going well. I feel my talents are being better used on the new project I've been assigned to. I actually get to use my brain, which is...refreshing."  
"I see. And the new project hasn't been overwhelming?"

"Not so far."  
"What will you do if it does become so?"

I paused for a moment, thinking this over, trying to picture myself being loaded down with work. No...that didn't seem like me. It wasn't work that overwhelmed me—it was everything else.

"I suppose I'd talk to someone and see if I could get some help. If not that, then I'd find a way to properly fit everything into my schedule so it would work out." I was going to mention that my habit of not sleeping would leave me with a lot of extra time to finish things, but I decided to leave it out. I didn't need another lecture on that. She'd already told me how dangerous it was for me to be viewing my insomnia as a positive thing.

"It's good to have a plan," she said. "What else is good?"  
"I'm enjoying my new space at the Avengers Tower. Tony very carefully picked everything out to suit my needs, so, naturally, everything is perfect. I'm grateful that he would do something like that for me. But I also find myself surprised at his kindness. Any kindness, really. It isn't something I'm used to. I almost want to say that it's difficult to process. On my commute from there every day I catch myself feeling like I'll never go back, like kindness towards me can only extend so far. Though I suppose that is just my self-destructive mind playing on all the things my father did to me when I was younger."

"You're commuting from where?" Kathrine interrupted, a stern look on her face.

"New York. Avengers Tower. It's very nice. You should come by sometime and see it," I said, shying away from the look in her eyes. The eyes were always intense, especially when we were having a 'therapeutic' session. And, especially when she was about to give me 'constructive criticism' on my life choices.

"Annabelle," she started, pinching the bridge of her nose, "that's at least four hours away by car. Please tell me you've got something set up for that."

"I've...been taking a cab a little ways. And then walking." She almost audibly groaned, but restrained herself. She was good at keeping herself in check.

"That's physically impossible," she said finally.

"Not for me," I said, then cleared my throat when she shot me a look. "I walk for a while, yes, but then I run the rest of the way. I can make it there fairly quickly."

"And do people see you running? Don't you think that attracts attention? You've got to think about these things, Annabelle. If you're running that fast, someone is bound to notice."

"I want to live at the tower, Kathrine. I like it there. My friends are there, and it makes me happy. Do you want to take that away from me?" She ran a hand over her hair, the curls bobbing at her shoulders. She'd just gotten it cut, the shorter length making her look that much younger. I was shocked to find out she was in her mid-forties; she didn't look a day over thirty.

"I'm just worried you'll overexert yourself. You said you haven't been sleeping?"

"Not regularly..."

"Have you considered that it might be because of all the running? There's so much we still don't know about your abilities. Perhaps instead of the running making you tired, it's firing you up, making your abilities more active." I had thought of that many times, but I wouldn't admit it to her. She was right about everything else; I didn't want to give her one more thing.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine," I said. She shook her head.

"At least take a train. Or set something up with Mr. Stark. Please. I'm not going to try to force you out of your new home—though it would be ideal if you just moved back here."

"No," I responded sternly. She took a moment of silence, watching me with those dark eyes, then sat back in her chair.

"Captain Rogers is getting an apartment nearby so that he can do some work for us here at the Triskelion. Perhaps we could set you up with an apartment in the same building?" she proposed. My heart fluttered involuntarily. My mouth suddenly went dry, my palms sweating. I hated this reaction, but I always felt this way at the mention of him; it had only gotten worse since I'd been away.

"He'd think I was stalking him," I said after a moment, running my teeth somewhat anxiously over my lips.

"Nonsense. He got you the apartment in New York, didn't he? I'm sure he'd be happy to have you as a neighbor. You are friends, are you not?"

"Yes, friends. Just...friends." I swallowed, trying to ignore the slight grin that had grown across her face. Of course she knew I was fond of him. That was the only reason she was suggesting this, I was sure. She was using my attraction against me to try to get me to move out of the tower, which I was far too smart for. Yet...

"Maybe an apartment here would be nice. But I want it to be a place of my own, with my own space. It feels so cramped with my on-site room here. I need a kitchen to myself, a living room, at least one bookshelf. Understood?" It felt weird giving her an order, considering I saw her as superior to myself, but I had to defend my dignity somehow. She knew she'd won, and I had to redeem myself by acting like it was my own decision. Damn it, Steve. Why was I so weak when it came to him? I thought I was strong, though I guess I was wrong. I'd been weak against my father, and now I was weak against Steve. Of course there was a difference, but I hated being at the mercy of someone else, no matter who they were.

"I'll find the perfect place for you," Kathrine said with a satisfied smile. "Until then, I'd like you to stay at your room here. No more running back and forth across states. I can't even believe I have to tell you that."

"I'll have to go back to the tower this weekend and explain, then," I said, trying to have as much control over this situation as possible.

"Have someone come pick you up."

"Tony's already driven out here twice. I don't want him to make that drive again."

"Then I'll take you. Simple as that."

"You won't let me take the train?"

"I don't trust that you won't 'miss' the train and go running anyway." I slumped back in my chair. She was too intelligent for me to outsmart, at least while I was sleep deprived and mentally exhausted.

"Fine."

"Good." She pulled some papers off a table to the side of her, straightening them on her lap. "Anything else you'd like to discuss during our session today? I'm sorry if I've already put you in a sour mood. You know I'm just here to help."

"I know," I said with a sigh. She didn't speak, her eyes glued on my face. I knew she'd wait for me to talk; this was how things always went with her. She knew I had things on my mind, and she was going to sit and make me wait in the silence until I said them. There were so many things I could say, so many things that were bothering me, but I wasn't comfortable with saying them out loud. Still, the silence was growing more and more ominous by the second, and I knew I had to say something.

"I hear voices, sometimes," I said. My voice was quiet, strained, and for a moment I thought maybe I'd imagined speaking up. The voices had started back several months ago after the alien invasion that had brought me into all of this. They'd started in my dreams. Now, though, they'd grown exponentially, popping up to say things whenever they wanted. They were often hostile, manipulative. At first I'd thought they were a manifestation of anxiety, something ominous that my mind created to mirror the stress of being thrown into this life, or maybe a product of looking death in the face one too many times. The more I thought of this, though, the more I doubted it. The voices seemed an exterior force. My mind wasn't creating them.

"What do the voices say?" Kathrine asked. Her eyes bore into mine.

"Sometimes it's garbled. I can't understand. Other times..." I paused, focusing my eyes on a red quilt that was hung up on the wall behind her. The main theme of her office was this red hue, a color that often reminded me of fresh blood. It bothered me at first, during our first session, but over the months I was getting used to it. I forced myself to take a deep breath. "Other times, the voices say things that concern me."

"Who are 'they'?"

"I'm not sure. I can't put a face to the voice. Sometimes I think I can, like I'm just on the verge of figuring out who the voice belongs to...but I always end up losing it. It's frustrating. I thought after you returned my memories that I'd feel better, like my thoughts were completely intact. But this..."

"Is there only one voice?" she asked. I felt so uneasy, suddenly, and my body stiffened ever so slightly.

"I can't tell. Sometimes it seems like one voice. Other times it seems like multiple, all talking at the same time."

"You need your sleep, Annabelle," she concluded, jotting something down on one of the papers with a pen that she scooped up from the table. I watched her write, wondering what words were on the other side of that pen.

"You think that's it? My lack of sleep is making me hear things?"

"I think it's very likely. I'm going to prescribe you some sleeping pills, alright? Please take them."

"If you think sleeping pills are going to work on me, then you clearly haven't much of an idea of how I work," I muttered. She talked as if I hadn't already tried sleeping pills. I'd tried brand after brand when I first couldn't sleep, taking entire bottles at a time, sometimes. I thought I'd be dead in the morning when I took them, but I was always alive. Awake, and alive. They didn't help me sleep a wink.

"We'll have someone who knows about you make you a special set of pills. If you promise to take them."

"Fine," I said. She wrote something else on the paper, then clicked her pen.

"I'd say our time for today is about up. I'm glad we've set up some progressive changes for the future. Hopefully under my instructions you'll start to feel better." She stood, taking the papers with her. Smart move—I was going to try to snag a look if she left them. "But you have to listen to me, Annabelle. You have to do as I say. Otherwise you're only hurting yourself." I met her eyes as she said this, a strange tingle running down my spine. I could only nod in response.

I stood up and left Kathrine alone in her red room, making it all the way to the elevator before that strange tingling wore off. I pressed the button for one of the basement floors, where Project Insight was being constructed, and leaned back against the rail.

"Hold the door!" I heard a shout as they began to slide shut. Banging my fist against one of the metal walls, I sent a jolt of energy to the doors which froze them in place. After a moment of focus on my part, the doors reopened. I knew I only had to wave my hand in front of the doors to get them to stop, but I'd take every chance I could get at learning to refine my powers. Even though it was a great possibility that one of these days I was going to send an elevator plummeting to the ground without power—or worse.

As the doors opened I was met with the face of Naomi, a tired, yet grateful, look on her face.

"Hey," she said, stepping in. Or, rather, hobbling in. She had crutches positioned under her arms, one of her legs hanging somewhat limply as she made her way in before the doors shut again. I stared at her, waiting for her to explain. When she didn't, I crossed my arms.

"What happened?" I asked, leaning back against the rail again as the elevator descended.

"I know, my hair's a mess today," she said.

"Don't avoid the question."

"What, you want to know about this?" She held one of the crutches out a bit. I gave her a look. She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I broke it during a mission."

"That's terrible."

"Yeah, tell me about it. That's not even the worst part—SHIELD is suspending me for the time being," she explained.

"What?" I asked, surprised. "They're suspending you?"

"Yup."

"What are you going to do?"

"Wait until they let me back on missions, I guess."

"Which is when your break heals, right?" I took a step to her side. "You know, I've been working a little bit on the healing part of my abilities. I could try to speed up the process, if that would get you to work quicker." I was bluffing a bit, but, again, I'd take any chance to work on what I could do. SHIELD scientists had done little tests with me here and there, and though most of them were minor and nothing like the ridiculous trials Tony had planned for me back then, they did have some results. Of those, some supported the idea that I could not only regenerate my own cells, but that I could prompt regeneration and production in the cells of other living things, potentially aiding in healing.

"No," she snapped, quickly. I blinked away my shock at her sudden answer, and she turned her head away. The sun cast an orange light on her brown hair, making it seem almost golden. "I'll be fine, Annie. Thank you. Maybe it'll be good to take a month or two off. I guess this is God forcing me to take a vacation." The elevator dinged and the doors pulled open, revealing a long hallway. Several other agents were passing by, wearing suits and hauling briefcases.

"This is your stop?" I asked.

"Yeah, this is me." She looked back at me, an apologetic look on her face. "Thanks for the offer, really. I'll see you around. Come visit me sometime at my place, alright? It isn't that far from here."

"I will. Absolutely," I said, bringing a hand up to squeeze her shoulder. She leaned into my hand a bit, then exited. I watched her make her way slowly down the hall, looking so helpless and slumped over her crutches, until the doors eased shut.


	33. Book II Pt I Ch 6

_April_

 _It's only a matter of time…_

"Things are looking good so far," I said, bringing my hand up to steady myself as the jet jolted, nausea rolling over me momentarily. How was it that I always found myself on Quinjets, which were easily becoming my least favorite form of transportation? My dislike of planes was already huge, whether or not my mother's plane crash was a real event, or just something my father came up with to fool me. I'd grown up with that fear, even if it was a lie. Not to mention that nearly every one of these that I'd been on since I'd joined up with SHIELD and The Avengers had developed some sort of problem, many of which had almost gotten me killed. But, of course, Fury insisted I be on this one. And what Fury said, I did.

"No energy deficiency? The engine is running well?" the pilot asked me. I nodded and ran my fingers across my palm, slowly, methodically, creating a visible image that I flicked upwards so I could better see the engine in question. I was getting better with creating holograms, if you could even call them that, though they were a bit sporadic and hard to figure out if you didn't know what you were looking at. The images I created were purely made of tiny electrical energy charges, or energy particles, or whatever it was that pulsed through my body. They glowed an electric blue, which seemed to be very quickly becoming my signature color. I wondered if I tried hard enough I could get the holograms to change to another color, but now was not the time.

"Everything seems fine to me," I commented after a moment. The hologram that I created showed every electrical detail of the engine of the plane, the core from where all the power came from. It was my job to make sure it stayed stable, intact. I was the one who had last worked on this plane, and it was my responsibility to tag along and make sure it stayed working. At least, that's what Fury had told me. I didn't recall working on this plane specifically, but I trusted his judgment. It was only a bonus that it ended up being a transport for Steve and Natasha, though I hadn't even had the chance to say hello. I wasn't sure if they even saw me, stuffed near the front of the plane with the pilot. I wasn't part of this mission—I was just the 'engineer.' I'd never considered I could be an engineer, now that I thought about it. I had always strayed towards biotechnology and biochemistry, when I'd been allowed. This seemed different entirely. But, this new life was always full of surprises. And working in my position now at least got my brain firing.

Working on these jets was a short break from Project Insight, which was nearly complete, we were told. Over the past month I'd been working closely with higher ranked SHIELD engineers, Andon being among them. We'd become quick friends, after all of the times we coincidentally ran into each other. He was sweet and funny, and also a complete genius. If he was given a few materials and scraps, he'd have something amazing up and working in no time. It amazed me how he could move his fingers around metal, like he knew exactly where everything was supposed to be. It was like watching someone do a puzzle, though he hardly ever hesitated to set the next piece in place. Considering mechanics weren't entirely my thing, I was always mesmerized when I watched him work. He admitted that he felt the same way about what I could do. Once the mechanics were in place, and once they had electricity coursing through them, I could work my magic and pinpoint any problem. Recently my work had been finding out ways of increasing electrical output, which my growing knowledge of my abilities helped me achieve.

Despite Andon and I spending so much time together recently, I felt an odd sort of loneliness growing within me. I had even dropped in on Naomi more often, where she was still on leave for her injury, yet that didn't satiate it. Awkwardly enough, the only one I really wanted to see was Steve. Part of me hoped I'd get over him, and that Andon could be a distraction, but the closer I got to Andon, the more I missed him. Steve seemed so unreachable, even though we were 'friends' and I was seeing him more and more frequently since he moved to DC to do work at the Triskelion. Yet there was something so distant about him, and it made me feel helpless the more I let myself be infatuated with him. It was strange; I felt almost as if there was some weird invisible tie pulling me to him, something that I couldn't cut loose no matter how much it hurt me. Maybe that was my mind telling me that I shouldn't give up on him. The voices in my head sure seemed to support that.

I'm sure I sounded crazy every time I told Kathrine more about the voices. I didn't dare tell anyone else. They were getting worse and worse since I'd started working on Project Insight, though she continually claimed they were a product of mental exhaustion. I still hadn't taken the sleeping pills she gave me. They sat at home in my new apartment a few halls down from Steve's— _though Steve never seemed to be home_ , but that was beside the point. Kathrine scolded me every time I told her I hadn't tried them; I couldn't bring myself to do it. There was something strange about the way she insisted on me taking them, and I was a little weary that the pills had somehow been made specially for combating my abilities. What if there was some sort of trick? What if Kathrine was trying to take my abilities away? I shivered at the thought. _She wouldn't do that. She has your best interest in mind,_ a voice in the back of my head chimed, and I had to agree. Kathrine was my therapist and my caseworker, and I knew everything she did was to help me. Now if only I could lose that anxious feeling in my gut…

I felt Steve jump from the jet suddenly, shocks crawling up my spine as I very quickly lost 'sight' of his energy. I left the pilot behind and made my way to the back of the plane, where the metal door was cranked open. Just the sight of the clouds billowing below was enough to bring back my nausea, but I quickly pushed it away.

"Hey, Annabelle," Natasha said, coming up beside me.

"Did Steve jump?" I asked, immediately feeling rude for not saying hi back. She didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," she said nonchalantly.

"Did he take a parachute?" I heard someone ask. A man from behind me walked over to the edge, looking down.

"No, he didn't," he answered. _He can handle himself_ , I thought, then took a calming breath. He wouldn't have jumped unless he knew he'd be able to make it. I knew that. I needed to stop being blinded by my stupid feelings and think logically. Why was that so hard for me to do?

"Were you briefed on this?" Natasha asked, the question directed at me. I shook my head.

"I'm just here to make sure the plane stays stable," I explained.

"Ah, so Fury's keeping you in the dark," she commented, the two of us watching as some of the task force strapped on parachutes and jumped out into the dark sky.

"Pardon?" I asked.

"Well, between you and me," she lowered her voice, leaning close enough to my ear that I could feel her breath on my neck, "Fury has you on board with us just in case we need backup. We shouldn't. But he seemed to feel better putting you here as well."

"So this is kind of like a mission? For me?" I asked. I still hadn't been sent out on a real mission, which was starting to bother me. There was so much I could be doing to help out in the field with my abilities, yet he refused to send me on any. Even if I was just backup for this mission, at least it was something.

"Something like that, sure. If that makes you happy," she said.

"How am I going to know if I'm needed?"

"Someone will tell you. And brief you. That's my understanding, at least. We probably won't need you, though, so don't worry." She clapped a hand onto my shoulder and squeezed as she saw my look of disappointment. "Hey, don't get upset. I'm sure Fury will put you on something eventually."

"He'd better," I said, staring out into the dark. "It's a stupid waste of my talents to keep me inside." I wasn't sure where all of this animosity was coming from, so suddenly, but I couldn't stop it. Hadn't I, once upon a time, wanted to be kept in? I wanted to be free from my father, yes, but I knew the dangers of my abilities. Hadn't I wanted to figure them out first before I did anything too crazy?

"That's the spirit," Natasha said. She grabbed a parachute as soon as the others had descended, strapping it into place securely. "Maybe you should just bother him about it until he says yes."

"Maybe I will."

I waved at her as she took a running start and dropped off the edge of the door, disappearing from sight. I backed away and the door eased itself shut. Now, all I had to do was wait. I wanted to be ready on the off chance that they'd need me.

Of course, they didn't. Within the hour the jet descended onto a ship located far below, where it was loaded with the returning task force, a few agents who had been hostages on board, as well as Steve and Natasha. Another jet landed to pick up the rest of the hostages, though I wasn't even aware we'd brought a second one with us. Yet another thing I was kept in the dark about. Steve didn't look at me as he took his seat, just before the jet took off into the sky. He seemed irritated, and I wasn't sure he even saw me. I'd been called back to be with the pilot, though I'd tried to make myself as visible as possible, leaning against the archway to look out at the other as they returned, but it must have been just dark enough that he couldn't recognize me. Instead of stepping out more to make myself known, I retreated back to the front.

"Okay, but how about Molly?" I heard Natasha ask, and pressed myself a little bit closer so that I could hear.

"Short blonde?" Steve responded.

"Yeah. Glasses, freckles, really cute."

"I'll pass for now."

"Okay, what about Lindsey?"

"Have I met Lindsey?"

"Sure. Tall, black hair, great body."

"I don't recall."

"Annabelle?" For a moment I thought she was calling me, asking me out to join them, but then quickly realized that she was only listing me. My face reddened in the dark and I held my breath, my palms beginning to involuntarily sweat.

"Natasha, I'm really not in the mood for this. I told you I was too busy. Besides, I don't know if I trust you're not trying to set me up with people for your own personal benefit. Because that's what you do, isn't it? Things for yourself?" he snapped. My heart sank, but I stayed pressed against the metal to hear more.

"Come on, Captain, don't do this. I was only following my orders."

"You're right. I'll go to the source to talk about this."

"Fury has a lot on his plate-"

"We all do." They fell silent. _Fury keeps everyone in the dark._

I felt like I couldn't breathe; the tension between them was thick, not to mention I was having some tumultuous feelings of my own. Was Steve insulted that she had suggest me as an option? I'd known from Tony that Natasha was trying to set Steve up. I knew that's what the conversation was about. But he seemed to get so much more defensive at my mention...was there something wrong with me?

"They seem to be getting at it tonight," the pilot commented, glancing over at me. I wiped the sweat of my hands on my pants and tried to take a breath, nodding my head.

"Yeah, seems that way," I replied, noticing there was a shake in my voice. Why was I reacting this way? Didn't I already know that I didn't have a chance with him? Hadn't I always known that? _It isn't a big deal, Annabelle. Calm down. Deep down you know you two have chemistry. He's stressed. He'll come around. Don't give up on this._ I nodded to myself as the unknown voice echoed around my head, getting a raised eyebrow from the pilot.

"Have something on your mind?" she asked, but I quickly shook my head.

"Nothing," I said. _Nothing indeed._


	34. Book II Pt I Ch 7

_...your day is coming…_

I dropped my bag carelessly on the floor as I approached Andon the next morning, snapping him out of the dream-like stare he had directed at the most recently finished aspect of the Project Insight Helicarriers. He had his hand up to his chin, looking vaguely like an ancient philosopher, but he broke his intense eye contact as I approached him. The newest part of the Helicarriers, which he was already infatuated with, were the back two engines, fully functioning and expected to self charge themselves to ensure very long periods of flying. These were my doing. Of course, I didn't build the engines myself, considering I knew very little about building an engine from scratch, but I had drawn up much of the blueprints and worked very hard on developing the self-charging system. I'd based it off of my own abilities, as much as I could.

"Is something wrong?" Andon asked, finally completely coming out of his daze. He seemed to space out more than usual lately, like his brain was working too hard for him to communicate or pay much attention to his surroundings. If it had been someone else, I'd have been worried. But, this was Andon; his brilliance had been accompanied with strange behavior since the day I met him.

"I'm fine," I said, stepping forward to get a better look at the new engine.

"You don't seem fine."

"It's something stupid. I won't bother you with it."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you this much. Come on, you know I'm good at listening." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I hadn't told him any of how I felt for Steve, so coming out with it now in its entirety didn't seem that appealing to me. I was still hoping to keep Andon as an option, if I ever snapped out of this weird infatuation I had. As odd as that seemed. _You only think that because he's being nice to you. You can't love every guy that's nice to you._

"I had a really long night," I started. "The Director sent me to monitor a Quinjet, though I was later informed that I was sent as backup, should the ones on the mission need it. I'm just a little peeved he didn't fill me in completely. There's so much he doesn't tell me." This was no lie. Though the event with Steve the night before—in which he very clearly disregarded me as a romantic option—was somewhat bothersome, Fury's silence of vital information was really the root of my sour mood. It was getting harder and harder to follow his orders blindly.

"There's a lot he doesn't tell anyone—you're not alone. Director Fury has a lot to keep track of. He has to keep all of that information safe. You never know when we could have a traitor on the inside." _But he's harming people in the process. He should be more open,_ the voice in my head snapped. I clenched my fists. I was starting to wonder if this voice was my own, like my conscience or a voice of reason. Was I crazy enough that I didn't realize these were my own thoughts?

"When it's concerning me and my ability to protect other people I care about, I'd like to know all the details I can," I said. I saw him shrug his shoulders in my peripheral vision. I turned and retreated to a small desk near the edge of the platform, where all of the blueprints and schematics were laid out in a mess across the surface.

"I envy your ability to be so calm about this," I continued after a moment, shuffling around some papers to see if there was anything I could get to work on.

"Sometimes there's no point in getting worked up. Have you ever tried meditating?" He stayed where he was, though his voice carried. I thumbed through a few pages of work.

"I meditated a lot when I was younger," I explained, beginning to sort the papers into neat piles. If there was one thing these engineers weren't good at, it was organizing. "When my father really bothered me I often shut myself in my room and would meditate there for days until I was calm enough not to do anything hurtful. I used to be really patient."

"Used to be?" he asked. A paper slipped off the table, evading my grasp as I reached for it. I bent down over it and scooped it up, staying crouched for a moment as I looked it over, though my thoughts weren't able to completely focus on it.

"I feel like things are different now. Inside of me, I feel like I'm not exactly the same person I was then."

"Everyone changes."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." I straightened my legs out and deposited the paper into the appropriate pile.

"Why don't you tell The Director how you feel?" Andon asked, catching my attention with a head nod in another direction. I followed his eyes until I saw Fury on one of the overhead platforms, hands tucked behind his back, being followed by...Steve. Of course.

"Maybe I will," I said, though my palms were quickly starting to sweat. I took a deep breath and headed towards the stairs, then reconsidered and returned to the desk. I ripped an empty sheet of paper from one of the notebooks laying around and balled it up in my fist, hoping this would somehow help me calm my nerves. Setting off towards the stairs again, I tried my best to focus only on that ball of paper, the sweat from my hand already soaking it.

"Director Fury," I called as I approached, my heart skipping as both he and Steve turned to face me. I made sure to keep my eyes only on Fury to keep from getting upset again. I felt stupid having to compromise like this.

"Miss Green. How's the work down here going?" Fury asked, his one eye searching my face, like he already knew I was here to express my irritation with him. I squeezed the ball of paper.

"Fine. We've finished the engines. Hopefully they'll run as planned," I explained, ignoring Steve, who's eyes were glued on my face. He himself seemed irritated; maybe Fury had already heard a great amount of complaining this morning already. _Good. Maybe that'll make him listen and start to make some changes._ I nodded in response to myself.

"Great," he said, then raised an eyebrow. "Is there something you need from me, Miss Green?" The way he said my name made me feel like retreating back to Andon and my work. I squeezed the paper harder.

"I would just like to say that I'd appreciate it if you'd inform me the next time you send me on a 'mission,' even as backup. Last night would have been a disaster had I suddenly been needed without knowing beforehand what I was needed for. I've had enough lies in my lifetime. I don't want any more. Please," I said, straightening out my shoulders a bit. If I slouched, this bold statement wouldn't be seen as anything but a complaint from an impatient little girl.

"I didn't want you to get worked up thinking you had a big part in that. Last night was only a precaution. I was fairly certain they wouldn't need your help, and they didn't. You were just assurance."

"Is that all I am to you? Assurance? I didn't completely throw away my old life to come here and be 'assurance.' I always dreamed I would be something someday, and this wasn't what I had in mind. I sacrificed a lot to be here. I'd appreciate it if I was actually used for something genuine." I held my breath, wondering if I'd spoken too much. Everything in my old life had been lost, yes, but I didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing. Yet I still brought it up, as if I'd given away riches and a lavish life. I didn't want to come off as demanding or selfish with what I was saying, but the words just kept coming out of my mouth. Maybe this lack of sleep really was messing with my brain, making me more hostile than I was supposed to be.

"In due time, Annabelle. Believe it or not, we're looking after your safety as well as SHIELD's. I understand it took a lot for you to get here, and I'm not going to use you where you're not needed. Everything we do here is for a reason. Just trust that you're being used for the greater good," he said. My body tensed.

"Yes, sir," I muttered, trying to push back the rage that began to well in my chest. Everything he said was always logical, always right, and that made me angrier than I wanted to admit. Maybe I didn't like being wrong. Or, maybe this behavior reminded me far too much of my father's.

"You were on the mission last night?" Steve spoke up finally, breaking the awkward silence that had risen between the three of us. I shifted my eyes, daring to look at his face. That was a mistake. As soon as we met eyes my heart skipped, and I could feel all my defenses falling.

"Yes."

"On which jet?"

"Yours."

"Why didn't you come out and say anything?"

"It wasn't my place." I shifted my eyes back to Fury before adding, bitterly, "I was just uninformed backup."

"You can dwell on this if you want. It won't change anything," Fury responded, his voice low and menacing. I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat. _He's all talk, no show._ Still, I couldn't stand up to him.

"I should get back to work," I said, feeling far too defeated to try to argue with anyone anymore. I nodded my head at them and left without another word, even as Steve's energy spiked, like he had more to say. When I returned to Andon he proved smart enough not to try to talk to me, instead giving me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and letting me get back to my work. It wasn't until hours later, when we were packing up to head home, that he finally spoke to me.

"Want to see a movie tonight? You seem stressed. I thought it might help. I don't mean to pressure you or anything, I just—"

"A crowded theater of people doesn't really sound that appealing to me right now," I said before he could finish, stuffing a few papers into my bag. I'd work on them later tonight, while I was busy not sleeping.

"Then it doesn't have to be a theater. You're welcome at my place. We could—" I tuned him out as I looked over one of the sheets of paper, a few of my scribbled linings across it. 'Can target multiple threats at once,' it said, 'creates security for the innocent and fear for the guilty.' I blinked and squinted my eyes, reading the sentences over again in my head. Had I written this? I didn't recall writing this. I read a few lines down, where my eyes fell on another sentence: 'humanity cannot be trusted with its own freedom.' My mouth suddenly felt try, a headache quickly developing in the center of my forehead. The more I looked at this, the more I questioned if I had wrote it—despite it being very clearly in my own handwriting—and the more my head ached. Eventually I crumpled it up, ready to toss it, but reconsidered and tucked it into my bag instead. I cinched it closed and swung it over one shoulder, taking a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. It was easier to forget the words on that paper, forget the headache and strange symptoms that arose in me when I thought about them. It was easier to give up than to deal with the pain.

"So, what do you say?" I heard Andon say, and focused my attention back on him.

"To what?" I asked, immediately feeling guilty when I saw his face sink.

"The movie? Dinner? Did you hear any of that?"

"Yeah, I did," I lied, running a hand through my hair, "I just...I don't know. I was planning on visiting Naomi tonight. I haven't seen her in a few weeks. I told her I'd visit. Tonight is one of my free nights." This was also a lie. I had many free nights. As much as I liked Andon, and as much as a movie and dinner in his quiet apartment sounded nice, there was something inside of me that told me to fight it. Still, I felt bad.

"Maybe another night soon?" I proposed, shifting my weight to my other foot. He nodded, though the look on his face made it clear that he knew he'd been defeated.

"Yeah, another night. Sounds good," he said, already taking his bag and heading away from me. "I'll see you."

"See you," I called after him, then audibly sighed. I'd lose him as a friend if I kept up this cold attitude towards him. I really didn't want that. _You don't need him, anyway. You have friends. And you know better than to give up on Steve._

I didn't visit Naomi after work. I was afraid with my sour mood that I'd be hostile to her as well, and I didn't want to do that while she was stuck at home with a hurt leg. I'd spoken with her over the phone several times, as well as received a few hilariously crude texts from her here and there, but I hadn't had the chance to see her in person for a couple of weeks. Things had gotten busy. According to her, the leg was doing a lot better. Yet still, Fury didn't her anywhere near any SHIELD facility, even doing a desk job. Naomi was peeved about this, but I thought he made a good call. I couldn't see her lasting five minutes with a desk job. He was helping her out; she just couldn't see it.

Instead, I walked around the streets of Washington DC, seemingly going in circles around roads that all looked the same until the sun went down. The crowds of people thinned out as it got darker, and soon I was the only one, standing alone in an empty side street. I stopped to lean against the brick wall of a building, the 'open' sign flashing on and off in one of the windows. The neon bore into my eyes, mesmerizing me. Eventually, I decided to go in. I'd hoped for a convenience shop, somewhere where I could buy some candy that I could drown in later at my apartment. Instead, it was a liquor store. Too embarrassed to leave immediately after entering, I spent my time scanning the shelves, admiring the finely decorated vodka bottles that looked more like art than alcoholic beverages. I eased one of them off the shelf and looked it over, cringing as a read the price tag before setting it carefully back into place. Alcohol was an expensive addiction. I sauntered over to the cheaper side of the store, where beer bottles hung in snug six packs with unoriginal names slapped on the labels. After consideration, I opened the glass door and pulled out one of them, a mean looking dog brandishing the cardboard. I made my way to the counter at the front, where a balding man with arms the size of my thighs checked me out and sent me on my way. He hadn't asked for my ID, which I was glad for, considering I didn't have it. When SHIELD hired me they made me get all my official documents, though I'd never really had them before. I was sure if I had some sort of identification papers, my father was keeping them in a drawer somewhere with a lock. So, I had to go through hours of making sure to get all new papers and documents, which SHIELD took away from me to keep somewhere safe as soon as I had them. SHIELD wasn't that different from my father.

Despite all of that, I still wasn't an American citizen. I didn't have a driver's license, I didn't have a green card; I barely had enough money in my wallet to purchase the beer, which I wasn't even planning on drinking. My identity at the moment was flexible. For some, that would be a blessing. For me, I felt like I wasn't even a human being without papers and files and official statements telling me I was. I was in a weird limbo that I wanted to get out of.

It was about an hour or more later when I made it back to my building, the stairs making my tired legs ache as I climbed up them one by one. The building's interior was nice, clean, unlike many of those apartments I'd heard about on the news when I was younger, where drug addicts and lost children wandered the halls made up of peeling, decades-old carpet. The floors here were neat, the walls were clean, and at this hour there wasn't a soul wandering around the quiet halls. The stairs didn't even creak as I made my way up the last set of them, transferring the pack of beer to my other hand, my fingers throbbing. I looked down for a moment to adjust my bag and almost ran into a neighbor of mine, standing just ahead of me and unlocking her door. I jolted back in surprise as I caught myself just in time, meeting her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I said, shifting the beer yet again. She smiled, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

"Don't worry about it," she said kindly. "You're out late, aren't you?"

"So are you," I countered, not wanting to explain that I'd been wandering around the city for God knows how many hours.

"I do my laundry at this time. Best time to do it, if you ask me. No one else is down there."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said. I already knew this. When I needed laundry done, I always did it late at night, when it was quiet and I could sit and watch my laundry turn until it was done. There wasn't much else to do in the middle of the night. Yet, I'd never seen her down there. Perhaps we'd happened to miss each other every time.

"You're a nurse, right?" I asked, gesturing to the scrubs she was sporting. She looked down at herself and then nodded.

"I am. What about you?"

"Electrical Engineer," I said, not giving it much thought. After all, that's the closest thing I had to a profession at this moment, even if I knew nothing about actually building anything.

"Sounds interesting," she said, and I was glad she didn't press for more details. What else could I say? _You could tell her you work on planes. It wouldn't be a lie,_ the voice in my head chimed in. I doubted the helicarriers were considered 'planes,' though.

"Want a beer?" I offered, holding the pack up. If I could manage to get rid of all these beers without having to drink any, that would be ideal.

"Sure. Thanks." She smiled and took one, leaving the package feeling uneven in my hand. "Have a nice night," she said after getting her door open finally, holding up her beer as a goodbye. I nodded at her as she disappeared behind her door, the empty hall suddenly seeming more bare now.

"Late night?" I heard Steve's voice call, and lifted my eyes to find him leaning against his doorway. I wasn't sure how long he'd been there, my abilities doing a horribly indecent job at picking up on people like they used to. I stepped away from the nurse's door, which was only a few down from Steve's, and walked until I stood across from him. Not too close, but not far away.

"Yeah, I guess," I responded.

"Had the urge to grab a few beers in the middle of the night?" he asked, a somewhat amused look on his face. That look sent a wave of relief through me. It meant he wasn't mad about my rude and cold behavior lately, even though he had a right to be.

"I guess," I said. We stood across from each other, frozen in place, silent. Finally, I shut my eyes and let out a breath.

"...Steve, I'm sorry about today. And how I've been acting lately."

"I've noticed you haven't been yourself. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. I'm just anxious all the time, and I feel like I'm losing myself. I don't know how to stop it. I can't sleep because of the anxiety, yet sometimes I think the anxiety is because I can't sleep."

"Sounds like you need a day off. Or a week. I know SHIELD is important to you...but please take care of yourself, too. And don't be intimidated by me. I only live a few doors away. If you need a place to stay, away from your own space, or if you need to talk, anything. We've been through a lot. I'm here for you." A warm sensation boiled through my chest.

"Thank you," I said, slowly, letting the words sink in. "That really means a lot. Sometimes I forget that I have people now. I'm allowed to have friends. I'm allowed to...talk. And be myself. I forget pretty often," I admitted. He gave me a sympathetic look.

"You need to heal. Adjust. You'll get there. You're a strong woman, Annabelle. I don't doubt for a second that you'll figure this all out," he said. I nodded, that warm feeling spreading through my arms and face. After a moment of consideration, I held up the beer again.

"Beer?"

"Sure." He slipped one out from the other side, leaving it balanced again, which was more satisfying that I'd expected it to be.

"Won't do me much good," he said after a moment, reading over the label. I suddenly felt a little self conscious over the brand I'd chose.

"They won't do me any good either," I said, looking down at the bottles.

"No?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I think my abilities burn the alcohol right up before it can do anything. At least, that's one of many theories." I shrugged. "I never much liked alcohol anyway."

"That's where you and I are different," he said with a smirk. "I'll take them if you're not going to drink them. I can even pay for them."

"Please, take them as a gift. I can afford it." I couldn't, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I thought again to my hilariously empty wallet that was sitting at the bottom of my bag.

"I'll pay you back," he said, somewhat more firmly this time. All I could do was nod in response as he took the rest of the pack from me. I stretched my fingers, the lines from the cardboard thick and red across my palm.

"Get some rest, Annabelle," he said, slipping the bottle he'd taken already back into it's place in the pack.

"You too," I said, backing away, ready to head down to the other end of the hall where my door seemed to be calling to me. He smiled at me before he let the door fall shut. I'll admit that I stood there for longer than I should have, staring at his door, feeling his energy just behind it. Eventually, I retreated to my room. I stripped down and pulled on my flannel pajamas, brushed my teeth, combed my mess of hair. Before getting into bed I pulled the sleeping pills out of my night table's drawer, staring at the otherwise empty label that simply said 'Annabelle'. With a little hesitation, I shook a few capsules out into my palm and popped them in my mouth, chasing them with water. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out.


	35. Book II Pt I Ch 8

_...and soon you'll realize..._

"So you took some sleeping pills that actually worked. What's the big deal?" Naomi lifted her right leg up onto the coffee table, shaking a small glass bottle of nail polish vigorously.

"That's not the point. Normally I would be ecstatic that the sleeping pills worked," I said, finishing up with my own set of polish, a deep red, which I had painted across all of my toes.

"Then be ecstatic."

"I can't. Because I've had those pills before. They're not just any sleeping pills, they're sleeping pills that my father made." I dunked the brush back into the bottle and screwed the cap on tight, setting it down before leaning back on the couch.

"How do you know?"

"I just do. He had me take them back when I lived with him. I was weak at the time, so two pills put me out for something like fifteen hours. I was livid." I thought back to that day, which seemed so long ago now even though it had been less than a year. But after I had woken up this morning in a cold sweat, my heart throbbing and my brain sluggish, I knew I'd felt it before. That day came up clearly in my mind. Surely that meant something.

"What makes you say these are the same, though? Could it just be that they have similar properties? If you ask me, a lot of sleeping pills work the same. You can go to the store and browse over fifteen different brands, but they all do the same thing. Just because these pills put you to sleep just like your father's did, it doesn't mean they're the same thing." She painted over her big toe in her color, an emerald green, then cursed as she took the brush too far and got the table underneath.

"I have a bad feeling, that's all," I said, feeling a bit silly now. She was right—why did I feel like these were the same pills? It could just be a coincidence. But that nagging feeling in my chest, that little bit of panic I had risen with this morning, was prominent in my mind.

 _At least they helped. You know you feel a lot better now after having slept._ It was true; after I'd gotten over the horrible groggy nausea I'd felt waking up this morning, I felt great. Sleep had done wonders for me. But were wonders worth it? There was something about the pills that reminded me of my father, and that was enough for me never to take them again, even if they did help. If they had nothing to do with my father, they still made me think of him and what he'd done to me. I never wanted to think about that. Not here. Not in this new life that I wanted to keep separate from him.

"I'm glad you came to see me," Naomi said, rubbing at the stray polish on the table.

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. Things have just been so busy. And even when I haven't been busy I've been exhausted and grumpy. Today is the first day I'm really feeling decent," I admitted. Pills aside. Or, maybe _because_ of the pills.

"Do you know what I love even more than you being here?"

"What?"

"That you're skipping work to hang out with me. I know Fury has you obeying everything he says, but this bold move of yours is really making me happy," she said with a smirk. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. I was glad she was so happy to see me. And, as much as I didn't want to skip work, I was glad I had. After what Steve had said about me taking a day off to rest, I figured it would be okay. Everyone needed to rest. As if reading my mind, she nudged my arm.

"How's it going with you and Cap? You're living in the same building, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, on the same floor. I haven't seen much of him, though. We're both working and don't have a lot of free time."

"Ugh. Bore. Come on." She tossed a crumpled up paper towel at me. "I want juicy details. I want you two to just one day run into each other in the hall and realize you're in love, and then embrace. And then he'd totally take you into his room and—" She made a crude gesture with her hand that was enough to make my face turn red, and I shoved her a bit more forcefully than I should have. She hit the side of the couch and laughed, holding up her nail polish brush.

"You almost made me ruin my couch!" she said through her laughter, not bothering to sit herself back up.

"You deserved that," I said, my cheeks still warm. I had to remember to be more careful with her, considering her leg, though she wasn't even walking with crutches anymore. I doubted it had been broken; maybe it had just been sprained. Whatever it was, it wasn't serious enough to keep Naomi down. Nothing was enough to keep her in one place.

"I know that's what you want. I've just expressed one of your fantasies out loud, and you know it," she added. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm never going to tell you anything about my fantasies," I said. She made a dramatic groan. I sat up a bit more from the couch to get a better look at her in her new position.

"What about you?" I asked, eyebrow raised. "I'm sure you've got your handful of fantasies."

"Of course I do."

"Who are they about?"

"The better question would be who are they _not_ about," she said with a grin. I laughed.

"My first guess would be Tony." I watched her, waiting for some sort of reaction, but I didn't get one. I continued, "I mean, you two flirt like crazy and bicker like an old married couple." She waved her hand at me.

"Sure, I've thought about it here and there. But we're just too alike. We'd never get anywhere in life. I'm glad he has Pepper. At least with her breathing down his neck he'll get things done." I tried to detect any bitterness in her voice at the mention of Pepper, but she seemed genuine. Maybe I'd been wrong. I assumed she had a thing for Tony, but maybe I wasn't reading things correctly. Or maybe Naomi, with her eccentricities and stubborn attitude, was such a good person that she had accepted Tony's relationship and moved on without so much as a bitter thought. I examined her carefully, but I couldn't tell which it was.

"You've got to have someone you're into," I pressed on. She was on me so much about my relationship with Steve, and I had to admit I wanted to know some dirt on her love life as well. Not that I actually had a love life at this point.

"I'd just broken up with a guy before I met you. I told myself I'd take some time for me, and get off of the crazies for a while. Sometimes being single isn't that bad. I know it seems bad, but sometimes you need to be alone to figure out who you are, you know?" I hadn't thought of this. I'd been 'single' all my life, and all I wanted now was someone who loved me, and who I could love in return. I'd had my whole life to figure myself out...yet, still I didn't know who I was. Maybe she was right. Maybe staying single until I knew everything about myself would be a good idea. _But..._

My phone rang on the opposite side of the coffee table, the buzz amplified by the glass surface. I reached over for it, sliding it over towards me to check the number. There wasn't one. I tapped the green button on the screen and brought it up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"This is Nick Fury. I don't have much time to talk." His voice was muffled, breathless. "You need to stop working on Project Insight."

"What? Why?" I was surprised to hear his voice on the other end, so winded and strained.

"Just trust me. There's something fishy going on, and I need to get to the bottom of it before any more work on it takes place. Do you understand?"

"But I—"

"Do you _understand_?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation. I could feel Naomi's eyes on me, but I chose to focus my gaze across the room, my eyes falling on the doorknob. She couldn't know about Insight. I had to keep my secrets, even from her.

"Good. Don't worry, everything is fine. There's just a small setback that needs to be looked into. Don't call anyone else and tell them to suspend work. This is just concerning you. Keep your eyes _open._ "

"I will," I said, though I was confused. A setback should have been organization-wide, or at least concern everyone who was working on the project. If it was just me who was supposed to stop...what did that mean? He hung up without another word. He said not to worry, but something in his voice made a chill run up my spine. Something was wrong. I set the phone back on the table, Naomi nudging me with her foot.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said, forcing a smile. "Just Andon spouting some nonsense about the project we're working on."

"Do you two talk a lot? Oh my God, you're not falling for him now, are you?"

"He did ask me out the other day," I said, glad that she'd dropped the suspicion so quickly. My stomach turned with unease, though I continued to nod and smile as Naomi went on about my romantic life, or lack thereof. I felt bad that I couldn't really focus on her excited one-sided conversation, but she didn't seem to notice. Either that, or she was good at acting. I would bet on the latter.

I left hours later, after Naomi and I had dinner and watched several episodes of a loud reality TV show, which she screamed about the entire time. I'd told her that I wasn't feeling that well, and that maybe the side effects of the pills were finally getting to me. She scoffed at this reason, but let me go anyway. Apparently she'd planned on me spending the night. I felt bad bailing—I'd never really spent the night with a friend, and now I was missing out. SHIELD was restricting me. _No, Fury is restricting you._

Now it was late, dark, as I slowly walked home. These late nights seemed to be becoming a habit for me—not that I had any reason to turn in early. What was I going to do now? If Fury didn't want me working for some reason, did that mean I was out of a job? The only good thing about that would be moving back into the tower, but having nothing to do there seemed almost worse than having to work and live here. What was I going to be without SHIELD? _SHIELD hasn't been good for you anyway_ , the voice rang in my ears. I sighed. Maybe I was reading too much into things.

I heard breaks squeal, and then a black sports car skidded around the corner nearly a block ahead of me, tearing off down the road. I felt sorry for whoever ended up in the way of that car, the driver obviously in a hurry. I watched it until it turned the next corner, then continued on my way. However, after a few moments the car emerged again, coming to an abrupt halt just ahead of me. The passenger's door swung open, and my body jolted at how sudden it all was.

"Get in!" I heard a female voice yell. It took me a moment to collect my thoughts, enough to focus on the driver's energy inside of the car—it was Natasha. I jogged over to the open door and slid into the seat as instructed, barely pulling the door shut before she sped off again. I skipped the seat belt as we shot down the street, my heart racing.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, a bit overwhelmed. She cut a corner and nearly ran into a mailbox, missing it by only about a foot.

"Fury is down," she said, her voice tough, controlled, yet almost forced.

"What?" I stared at her, her eyes glued on the road. I thought about the strange phone call earlier, then decided not to mention it right now.

"He was attacked. He's hurt pretty bad. He's at the hospital now." Her sentences were short and abrupt, as if she couldn't manage to get anything else out. I refrained from asking any more questions, instead leaning back against the seat and holding on as best I could. When we arrived at the hospital she left the car in the middle of the street, running in as soon as she cut the engine. I waited a moment, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, then got out and followed after her. She was at the front desk as I entered, demanding to know where Fury was being held. The woman at the desk calmly gave her directions, clearly used to this sort of thing. Working in a hospital must have been awful, having to deal with all of these raging emotions from family members and friends in pain. Natasha took off again and I trailed behind her, keeping my distance until she stopped abruptly, staring through a glass window. Steve was already there, his jaw tight and his body tense.

"Is he gonna make it?" Natasha asked, breathlessly.

"I don't know," Steve admitted, keeping his eyes straight. I wanted to ask what happened, get any sort of information, but all I could do was stare. Fury was on the other side of the glass, laying on a table with doctors swarming around him. I'd never seen him look so helpless. It was havoc behind that window, doctors yelling orders and methodically moving around each other, brandishing needles and tools that made me shudder.

"Tell me about the shooter," Natasha said, her eyes never leaving the operation table.

"He's fast," Steve started, fist clenched, "and strong. He...had a metal arm."

"A metal arm?" I asked, then quickly shut my mouth as Steve looked over at me, his face tight with stress. He nodded, and I swallowed, attempting to wet my dry throat. I felt Maria before she walked down the hall to meet us, a somber look in her eyes. She touched my arm, a strange yet sympathetic gesture, as if I was the one losing someone. She should have given this sympathy to Natasha, whose negative energy was so strong right now that it was giving me a headache. But, I supposed she needed the gesture for herself, not for me. Maria had been with Fury a long time. I couldn't even imagine the pain. Then again, I didn't have to. The pain they felt radiated into me.

"Ballistics?" Natasha asked, her voice hoarse.

"Three slugs," Maria said. "No rifling and completely untraceable."

"Soviet made," Natasha responded, her voice low. Maria nodded. From behind the glass the doctors got more frantic, the yelling becoming louder, the movements hastier. I found myself staring at my own reflection in the glass as the others' fear poured into me, filling me with dread that made my ears buzz. I couldn't hear a thing. All I could do was focus on that reflection, blurred with the movement of the doctors beyond it. I vaguely heard Natasha mumbling, rocking back and forth on her heals, holding her hand up to the glass as if that would help him recover. The yelling of the doctors sounded muted, garbled, as if my entire head was under water. My green eyes stared back at me. _This is it, isn't it_? It would be so simple for me to offer my help, test the healing abilities that we had been working on, bit by bit. Fury's aura was fuzzy, but enough of it was there that I could probably do something. Anything. Yet all I could do was stare into my own eyes reflected against the glass, wondering why I couldn't move.

The emotions around me suddenly changed, spiked, the buzzing in my ears fading and my eyes focusing again on the table behind the glass. The first thing I noticed was the consistent buzzing—no heartbeat. I saw Steve turn to look away as a doctor called out the time, my heart sinking.

"Annabelle?" Steve asked me, his jaw still tight, looking at me as if he expected an answer. He wanted me to confirm it, to call Fury's death myself. From all that I could feel at this range, he was certainly dead. His heart lay still in his chest, his body limp. Yet...there was something off. It seemed like he was still in there, somewhere, like he couldn't quite let go. For some reason, this is what upset me the most. I shook my head at Steve, and his face sunk. _Don't tell them what you think you see. It'll only make things worse. He's dead._ I let my eyes fall shut, trying to forget Fury's lingering energy.

I'd only witnessed one person die before. It was at my own hand, and he was gone almost instantly. No part of that man had stuck around. But Fury was different. Perhaps when someone was fighting for their life, their soul wanted to stick around for longer, try to cling to what was already gone. I'd experienced this myself when I faced death last November. Yet, unlike me, Fury didn't seem to be coming back. This was the end for him.

I saw myself out as Steve squeezed Natasha's arm, tears streaming down her face. I'd never seen Natasha cry. The emotions were too much for me to handle, and as bad as I felt about it, I had to leave. I made my way down to the lobby and sat myself in one of the chairs, picking up a magazine and thumbing through it aimlessly. The motion made me feel better. I considered calling Naomi to tell her the news, but as I pulled my phone out all I could do was stare down at the dark screen. Should I have told someone about the phone call? If I'd have said something, would someone have been able to save him? I tapped the power button and entered the password, going instead to Andon's number. My finger hovered over the 'call' button. Instead, I settled for a text message.

'You should skip work tomorrow,' I wrote, hitting send. This was innocent enough, I hoped. Fury didn't want me working on Project Insight, and whether that be because he didn't trust me or because he didn't trust the project, I wasn't sure. But, just in case, I didn't want Andon working on it either.

'Why? Have something fun planned?' Andon wrote back. He was still unaware of Fury's death, it seemed. I wondered when everyone else would get the news. I didn't respond.

It seemed like forever before Maria came and got me, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"Do you want to see him?" she asked quietly. Her eyes were red, though she was clearly trying very hard to keep herself composed. I nodded once, my body still a bit numb. I managed to stand and follow her as she lead me down one of the halls, a mirror image of the hall we'd been in before. I hated hospitals. Everything was generic, simple, as if every death and mishap that took place here were all the same. Not unique. The idea of that made me sick.

She entered a room while I waited outside, suddenly feeling paralyzed. I didn't want to go in. I could feel Steve and Natasha inside, their emotions still strong, my body refusing to let me step in to comfort either one of them. I stood still as a few medical personnel passed by me, moving on to another patient, another life, leaving this case behind. It seemed criminal to me that they could move on so quickly.

"Natasha!" I heard Steve yell, quickly ducking to the side, out of sight. I didn't want them to know I was just standing out here. This wasn't as much my loss as it was theirs.

"Why was Fury in your apartment?" Natasha snapped.

"I don't know," Steve responded somewhat harshly in response. I heard someone else enter the hall, a masculine voice chiming in, but my thoughts distracted me from hearing the conversation. _He was in Fury's apartment. He's never liked Fury. What was he up to_? I shook my head, pressing myself closer against the wall. Steve would never kill anyone. He wasn't like that. _What are the odds that he was the last one to see Fury before he was shot? Don't you think that's suspicious? He's a traitor. He wanted this to happen. He's guilty._ I brought my hands up to plug my ears, as if this would make the voice stop. _You've done so much for him, been there for him, fought with him, and what does he do in return? He lies. He rejects you. He never cared for you, and he never cared for Fury. He may have been a good man once, but what is he now?_

"Stop," I said out loud, then clapped a hand over my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. What was wrong with me? Why was I thinking these horrible things?

"Annabelle?" Natasha found me in my hiding spot, her face looking more gaunt than usual. I lowered my hand from my mouth and wrapped my arms around her frame without hesitation, pulling her close.

"I'm so sorry," I said, emotions, both hers and mine, welling up inside of me.

"I'm not going to do this here. Let's get you home," she said somewhat coldly. I didn't take offense. After what she'd been through, she had every right.

"I'll walk," I insisted, releasing my grip on her. Before she could open her mouth to argue, I held up my hand. "Please. I want to clear my head."

"Alright," she said, backing away. "...take care of yourself."

"You know I will."

Then, she was gone.

The walk home felt long with my numb legs underneath me, the stairs of my apartment building proving to be the most difficult. The nurse's door was left open, as well as Steve's at the end of the hall. The nurse must have heard the commotion and offered her help, though even her assistance didn't seem to help anything. I peered into her room, finding it empty, clean, before crossing the hall. Blood stained the carpet. Debris and broken possessions were scattered on the floor. I needed only to walk a few steps to get to my own room, but once again I couldn't move. I stood at Steve's doorway, standing over the spots of blood—Fury's last blood—and cried.


	36. Book II Pt I Ch 9

_...all you've ever been is a pawn…_

I'm not sure how long I stood in that hallway. It seemed like forever before several SHIELD agents filed in, one of them lifting me off the floor to move me, setting me aside like I was only an object in the way. I watched as they crowded into Steve's apartment, cleaning, analyzing, talking to each other in hushed whispers. Eventually a muscular male agent took me by the arm and lead me away from the scene, his grasp a little too tight.

"Where's Steve?" I asked. I'd hoped he'd be the one to come home, though I realized how stupid that was. Of course they'd send SHIELD to clean this up. And at this moment, Steve was probably being questioned. _The evidence that he's part of Fury's death is pretty strong_ , the voice chimed.

"Captain Rogers is going to see Alexander Pierce for a few questions," the agent answered, confirming my suspicions. "And they want you to come in."

"Me?" I asked. My head was throbbing, my eyes feeling sunken and sore from crying.

"Yes, you," he answered.

"For Project Insight?" My stomach reeled at the thought. I couldn't tell them about the phone call with Fury. But if they asked me to continue working, what would my excuse be to get out of it?

"No. The project is finished. Several of the engineers completed everything last night, I was told. You're wanted for a different reason."

"A different reason?"

"Yes." He didn't elaborate. I held my tongue as I was lead into a SHIELD vehicle and driven to the Triskelion, where I was then taken inside and into the elevator. We departed several floors up. I'd been on this floor many times; Kathrine's office was here, towards the far end of the hall. I realized she would probe me for answers to see if I knew anything about the incident—that's what they needed me for. If there was anyone that could get me to talk about Fury's phone call, it would be her. For some reason this made my heart beat faster, though mentally I felt a wave of relief. These conflicting reactions between my body and mind were about to drive me crazy. Between my thoughts insisting Steve was at fault for this mess and my body tensing and sweating with every accusation, I couldn't tell what I truly believed. Maybe a good session with Kathrine was just what I needed. Or, maybe this was all a trick. SHIELD was full of tricks.

"Annabelle," I heard a voice call, vaguely familiar. I looked up and met eyes with my blonde neighbor, the 'nurse,' who crossed the hall to meet me. How stupid I'd been to assume she was only an innocent neighbor. She wore a SHIELD logo on her uniform now.

SHIELD really was everywhere.

She rested a gentle hand on my arm and looked to the man who'd been leading me, his fingers still tightly wrapped around my arm.

"I've got this," she said. The man didn't release me.

"Pierce's orders. She's going to see Zindel. The orders were 'as soon as possible.' She doesn't have time to chat." I held my breath for a moment, triggering an electric shock that ran down my one arm as I exhaled. He quickly pulled his hand away as the shock made contact with his fingers, shooting daggers at me with his eyes.

"Only a minute," my neighbor commented, giving him a look. Holding his pained hand to his chest, he hesitantly retreated. I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.

"These last several hours have been crazy," I murmured, bringing a hand up to rub the spot on my arm where the man had been gripping me.

"Everyone is a little high strung from everything that's happened. Are you okay?" she asked me. I nodded my head despite the fact that, clearly, I wasn't.

"It's just a lot to take in." I couldn't begin to explain the painful pulsing in my head, nor the viscous thoughts I'd been keeping stuffed in the back of my mind. Chances were that I was going crazy—really, clinically crazy. That's how it felt, anyway. _That's why you need Kathrine. Kathrine will fix everything._

"I'm Sharon. Sorry I never got the chance to introduce myself to you before. It wasn't really my job to socialize with you," she said after a moment.

"Then it was your job to watch me?" I asked.

"Not you. Captain Rogers." I nodded, embarrassed that I'd assumed she was there for me. For once, it seemed like I wasn't the one being closely monitored.

"Does he know that?" I asked. She shifted her eyes down for a moment, then back up at me.

"He does now."

"I'll bet he isn't happy with you," I said carefully. The look on her face had already confirmed it. Steve hated for things to be hidden from him—it made him volatile. That was one of the big things he and I had in common, after all.

"He'll come around, I'm sure," she responded, a sort of sharpness in her eyes that I couldn't place. Her emotions were stable, surprisingly, though I guessed that was the SHIELD training at work.

"Of course he will." I glanced anxiously at an agent who made his way down the hall, my body tensing. At any moment someone could come back to retrieve me and take me to be questioned. If I told them about the phone call, would they assume I'd been the one to kill him? Naomi had told people jokingly once about my 'crush' on Steve, so I knew that at least a percentage of SHIELD was aware of it. That was going to be evidence against me, especially if they decided Steve was guilty of murder. He couldn't be, of course. _He could be, though._

Sharon noticed my unease and lowered her voice.

"I'll cover for you if you want to go get a drink of water. You don't look so good. Everyone's in a frenzy...I'm sure it's nothing against you. Go ahead and take some time, then come to them when you're ready. Alright?" Giving her a grateful look, though also fighting a strange sort of animosity that had been growing in me the more I spoke to her, I nodded my head.

I headed down the hall as quickly as I could without looking suspicious and ducked into a women's bathroom. It was a single bathroom, which I was grateful for, and I quickly locked the door. I turned the water on cold, pacing around the small space of the bathroom as it ran. I needed to calm down. Sharon was right; everyone was high strung, including me. If I could only cool off and think logically, things wouldn't seem nearly as bad. My thoughts could be centered and my body could relax. That was the only way I had a fighting chance of keeping Fury's phone call a secret from Kathrine.

I returned to the sink and ducked down, splashing my face repeatedly with icy water. This, if anything, would at least bring the puffy redness out of my eyes. I splashed my face again. As I reached for a hand towel I felt Steve's presence—he seemed to be making his way down the hall outside. Without thinking, I threw the towel aside and pulled the door open, meeting him just as he passed the entrance. He stopped his brisk walking and stared at me, his face straight but his eyes widened, the only sign that I had startled him with my abrupt movement.

"Annabelle?" he asked, furrowing his brow. I grabbed his arm and pulled as hard as I could to get him into the room with me. As soon as he was in I moved behind him and shut the door, leaning my back against it, as if someone was going to throw it open if I didn't. That startled look in his eye didn't subside. He was scared. And it wasn't me he was scared of.

"This is the women's bathroom," he commented, keeping his eyes on me. When I didn't respond, he furrowed his brow again and rested his hands on his belt.

"What do you need?"

"I don't know," I said, quickly, then shook my head. "I mean...something is going on and I can't put my finger on it."

"Fury was killed. SHIELD is a mess. What more is there?" He tightened his jaw a bit after mentioning Fury, his hands gripping his belt a little tighter. I ran a hand through my hair, trying, and failing, to collect my thoughts.

"I think you did it," I said. His expression changed for a moment, then hardened. I'd seen this look before, but never directed at me. My heart tugged in my chest.

"Of all the people I thought would turn against me, I didn't think you'd be one of them," he said coldly.

"No, let me explain," I said quickly, sucking in a deep breath and almost choking through the air. "There's these voices in my head—or a singular voice—or maybe they aren't there at all, I don't know." I paused as he stared at me, expression not changing. "These voices are telling me it's you. Blaming you. But I...I don't." I squeezed my eyes shut, a nauseating pain rolling over me. _Stop talking. He'll think your insane. Tell him it's a joke. Make this right._

"Voices?"

"Yes. All the time. They keep getting worse. I can't even—I..." I felt like I was going to pass out. _Do not tell this traitor anything. Don't sympathize with him. He's the bad guy. You know what's right. Listen to me. Don't say another word. Leave. Now._ My palms were sweaty, and I wiped them against my pants while I tried to center myself. I couldn't tell why this was happening, why my mind was suddenly so hostile. The voices seemed to be fighting for themselves, afraid of being found out. Was my mind becoming so toxic and unhinged that it was actively fighting against me? Was I truly losing my sanity?

I resisted the urge to scream out loud. Managing to open my eyes, I looked up at Steve, who was starting to look more concerned than angry. His blue eyes bore into my own, so many feelings coming over me that I felt suffocated. Then, I acted without another thought.

It's funny how you never realize how tall someone is until you're trying to be at their level. I found I had to stand on my toes to even get close. I grabbed at his arm to keep me from tipping over and brought my lips to his, nearly immediately losing my balance. I would have fallen if he didn't grabbed me, his hand firm on my arm, though gentler than the man who had escorted me earlier. Heat radiated off of his fingers.

The voices in my head seemed to stop all at once. For a moment he leaned down closer to me, my heels making contact with the floor again, my balance restored. I brought my hand from his arm to the back of his neck, hoping to keep him there, as if doing this would mean he'd never pull away. But, he did. All too quickly. He kept his hand firm on my arm but yanked his face back, out of my reach.

"What are you doing?" he asked, though he sounded more flustered than demanding. The voices were still silent, and I took a moment to appreciate that silence before I could speak.

"I wanted to see if it would make a difference," I said, quietly. A difference with what, though, I wasn't exactly sure. Was I trying to prove something to him? Or, maybe, something to myself? It had seemed like the right move, though I couldn't—and wouldn't—sift through my thoughts right now to make sense of why I'd thought kissing him was the thing to do. It had been some kind of urge from the back of my mind, from a space that had been hidden under all the whispers and soft voices I couldn't place. I nearly swayed as I tried to keep my mind blank. It was impossible, of course—thoughts were always there, no matter how hard you tried to clear your mind. But, for now, they were simple thoughts. I could work with simple.

Steve's grip on my arm tightened ever so slightly.

"You need to go back home and rest. You're unstable."

"They're taking me to Kathrine," I explained, my words sounding strange on my tongue. There was a strange buzzing in my brain. I couldn't tell if it was the high off of kissing him or something else.

"Your therapist? That might not be a bad idea."

"I know. But I feel really wrong about it. Really uneasy." I stared at him, looking for any sort of sympathy. He audibly sighed.

"Do what you have to do, Annabelle. I trust you'll make the right decision. But things are crazy right now. Be careful." He moved me effortlessly to the side before releasing my arm, pulling the door open.

"You're leaving?" I asked. I didn't know what I'd expected, but I was very quickly starting to panic again.

"I have to go. Go to your therapist or don't, but just get yourself to a point where you can relax, okay? Please. This situation is having an ill effect on everyone. You're not alone." I opened my mouth to speak as he started off down the hall, but I couldn't get the words to come out. Instead, I stood in the doorway and lightly touched my fingers to my lips, contemplating what I'd done. My thoughts were seeping back in. What was going to happen now? Was he just going to forget this and move on? Could _I_ forget this? Was he right? Maybe I really was going crazy. At first I'd been offended that he hadn't said anything, hadn't made any comment at all about the fact that we'd kissed. Maybe he was embarrassed. Or, maybe it was a much bigger deal to me than it was to him. He was back to business the moment it was over, when I was still drowning in a sea of emotions. Had it even been worth it? _Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

I lost track of myself. A few agents ambushed me from different sides of the hall several minutes later, a woman grabbing my wrist and another my free arm, while I just stood there and took it. I didn't understand why they were treating me this way—I hadn't done anything wrong. Did they assume I'd had something to do with Fury's death? It was true that I blamed myself indirectly for not telling anyone about the phone call, or the way that Fury's voice shook, ever so slightly, when he spoke to me. I couldn't read emotions over the phone. I hadn't even been sure what he was feeling. But I couldn't tell anyone that now, and no one had any way of knowing about it. So why all of this?

The agents jerked me down the hall and towards Kathrine's office, parading me in front of glass meeting rooms where other agents were sitting, watching. I saw Sharon behind one of those walls, watching me with sad, confused eyes. Everyone else was a blur. My interaction with Steve weighed heavily on my heart, but everything else was quickly taking it over. Thoughts were moving through my mind too quickly for me to process them, but my body, shaking, buzzing, throbbing, was clearly reacting to what I couldn't comprehend.

I can't say for sure what made me snap. Maybe it was all those eyes on me. Maybe it was the agents' grips on my arms, a little too tight for comfort. Maybe it was Steve. Or, maybe I felt too threatened, too restricted, and it reminded me of my days back with my father. Whatever it was, it made me lash out. The panic welling inside of me finally overflowed, and I stopped abruptly in the hallway, pulling my arms back as forcefully away as I could. Because I was so emotional, little licks of electricity sprang from my skin, grabbing at those nearby, lashing against their skin. One man shouted out in pain. It felt relieving to let the energy out, but that relief was very quickly squashed as several agents appeared as backup, grabbing my wrists and locking me up with handcuffs like a criminal. I could have easily broken handcuffs apart, but...these were different. There was something about these particular cuffs that made my hair stand on edge, my insides constricting as they made contact with my skin. These, like the sleeping pills, seemed familiar. Too familiar.

I was forced into Kathrine's office, her blood red décor stunning to my tired eyes. The door behind us was slammed shut, the sound echoing in the small space, adding unnecessary strain to my aching head. Kathrine sat at her desk, calm, serene, just like always. If it wasn't for the horribly uncomfortable cuffs and my escort of SHIELD agents, this would have seemed like a normal session. She laced her long fingers together and looked at me with concern in her endless eyes.

"Is everything alright? What's going on? Why are there so many of you forcing her around?" She stood, weaving her way around her desk to face me. "This is unacceptable behavior," she said, looking to one of the agents holding me.

"She was acting erratic, ma'am," one responded. Kathrine shook her head.

"No excuse. The poor thing is already traumatized I'm sure from all of what's been going on around here. All I asked Pierce to do was send her my way when she came in so that I could make sure she was okay. This is too far." The agent dropped my arm, though didn't remove the cuffs. The sensation the metal had on my skin was agonizing. I felt like everything was being drained, like my soul was crawling out of my fingertips, sulking out of the room. It reminded me of when my powers had been stolen those months ago, or when I'd been unable to see Naomi's aura through the fog of that device she'd brouht. It reminded me of the mechanical piece in my heart. My father.

"Where did you get these?" I spat suddenly, pulling violently at the cuffs. I ignored the sting as the metal seared against the skin of my wrists, whipping around to face the group of people that had cuffed me. I wasn't sure which one specifically had done it, because five or six people had followed me into the room, but I would find them. I had to.

"They're SHIELD technology. Something that dims abilities," an agent explained.

"No," I started, trying to keep my voice from shaking, "this is my father's technology. Meant for me. Meant for my abilities."

"Now, now, let's not get carried away," Kathrine spoke up, crossing the room to put a hand on my shoulder. "You're scared. You're projecting your negative feelings from your past onto the present situation. These are SHIELD designed handcuffs for dealing with gifted individuals. It may seem like everyone is out to get you right now, but I promise that isn't the case. Annabelle...look at me." She laid a gentle hand on my cheek, her palm warm. It took every ounce of my strength not to meet her eyes. I knew what power those eyes had.

A speaker in the corner of the room buzzed on, distracting Kathrine for the time being. There was a cough, a tap, and then a voice spoke up.

"This is Alexander Pierce," it said, his voice low, "and as of now, Captain Rogers is a fugitive of SHIELD. Do what it takes to get him back here." The speaker buzzed again as it faded out, leaving the office in an eerie silence. I felt my eye twitch.

"You know," I spoke quietly, "I'm pretty good on my feet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" an agent asked, but before they could get an answer I'd swung my leg up, getting him across the face with my shoe. He stumbled back and hit the wall, stunned. What happened next went so fast that I can barely recollect it. Agents came at me from all directions of the room, grabbing at me, clawing me, one pulling out her gun and aiming it straight at my head. Kathrine retreated to the corner of the room, keeping her eyes on me, hoping to make eye contact. I wasn't going to let that happen. I only had one thought, one thought that was purely mine, I was sure of it: I had to find Steve Rogers.


	37. Book II Pt I Ch 10

_...and you never loved him at all._

In a flurry of fists and weapons I managed to make my way out of Kathrine's office. There were agents swarming the halls outside, panicked, confused, trying to comprehend the news that Pierce had just announced. I weaved through them, my hands still caught cuffed behind my back. The others were quickly approaching behind me, I could feel it. It seemed like the hall was erupting with noise, heavy footsteps and whispers, as I ducked into the open stairwell and started my descent. I tried to take several steps at a time, though without the use of my hands I was feeling extremely unstable. If I lost my footing even for a moment, the agents trailing behind me would have me. That wasn't an option. I slid around one of the concrete corners and started down my next row of steps, one of the agents managing to grab my elbow as I did. I twisted my body, taking the risk to swing my arms back, which sent the man flying down the stairs ahead of me. Miraculously, I kept my footing as I straightened out again and leaped over the body at the bottom of this row of steps. Fearing that someone else would grab a hold of me if I took the next row, I did a twist and brought my hands up as much as possible to pull the door open on the other side of me, which lead to the lower floor. What floor it was exactly, I wasn't sure. I didn't have time to even glance at the number painted on the back of the metal door. I desperately searched for an exit, any way out, but this hall only looked like the rest of them: endless, and with many doors that wouldn't lead me anywhere significant.

Hitting a dead end, I pushed myself back against one of the large windows that lined the hall, watching as my pursuers caught up to me. Two instantly grabbed my arms to secure me, pulling me away from the window with jerky motions. They held me there, leaving me wondering what they were waiting for, until Kathrine jogged down the hall towards us in her heels, her perfect ringlets of hair frazzled and sticking out in various directions. She took a deep breath, clearly not used to much physical challenge.

"Annabelle, what has gotten into you?" she asked, staring at me. I made a point to avoid her eyes.

"Whatever is going on, I don't like it," I said, pointlessly pulling at my cuffs once again.

"Nothing is going on. I'm trying to help you, don't you see? I understand that they were a little too rough on you, I apologize for that. But we aren't against you. Please...just come back to my office and talk."

"Why is Steve a fugitive?"

"Well, I don't know that. I'm just as confused about that as I'm sure you are," she said, sounding genuine. I bit the side of my cheek.

"I just saw him. What could have happened between now and then?" I asked quietly. Something in Kathrine's emotions jumped, though the cuffs made my vision of them blurry.

"Did he say where he was going when you saw him? Did he say anything to you?" she asked. My jaw tightened.

"No," I said. It wasn't a lie; Steve hadn't told me anything worth while in our mess of an interaction earlier. But, even if he had told me, there was something in the way Kathrine was asking that made me not trust her. She wanted him caught, it was obvious. But why? What on Earth could he have done? I waited for the voices to chime in, to tell me he was guilty, but I was met with silence. They were still gone.

"Please, tell us if you know anything," she pressed after a moment. "About Fury, about Captain Rogers...anything. Please. Annabelle...look at me." I tensed.

"I won't be held here," I spat. Then, with one swift move, I used Kathrine's body to propel me backwards, leaping up and kicking my feet against her to get more momentum. She crashed onto the ground and I flew back, taking the two holding my arms with me. I smashed into the window, and then...

One of the agents yelled and released me, the other tumbling out the window beside me. He clawed at my arm, grabbed my hair, as if this was going to keep us from plummeting down, the ground fast approaching. We'd been higher up than I anticipated. I tried to relax my body to reduce the fall damage when it came, but anxiety rose in me as I calculated just how far we were falling. I'd survived a fall like this before, but if my powers were restrained by the cuffs, would I make it? If I didn't, would it matter?

We made contact with the street connecting to the front of the Triskelion, the agent beside me immediately falling limp. Dead. All at once, everything blacked out. Silence—cool, strange silence. Something seemed to ripple beneath me, but everything was black. I had no sense of myself. Everywhere and nowhere. For once, there were no thoughts running through my mind. Everything was empty. Over.

I opened my eyes. The back of my head felt warm, wet, and it took me a moment to realize it was blood. My vision was spotted, thought I could see the terrified onlookers from the street around me crowding in. I willed up enough strength to move my arms, both of which were surely broken. They weren't the only things broken, either—the cuffs were squashed underneath me, shattered by the fall. I could feel the sharp edge of one of the shattered remains with the tip of my finger. Relief washed over me. I could already feel my abilities doing their job, my vision regaining its sharpness. I had to move quick. Soon the other agents would make it out here to retrieve the two of us that had fallen, dead or alive.

"Help me," I choked out to a woman who was standing over me, taking a handkerchief to my head to stop the bleeding. She looked at me with vast, wide blue eyes.

"That man has called an ambulance," she said, her voice quivering.

"No," I said, my voice still hoarse, "help me up."

"Oh, goodness. I couldn't. Stay down. Rest. You're going to be okay. They'll fix you."

"Help me up, now." I brought my tongue over my lips, which had quickly chapped in the wind. The woman stared at me, confused and conflicted, but gently took my shoulders and tried to sit me up. My back and arms audibly popped as she got me into a sitting position, my body putting itself back together. As soon as I could, I brought my arms forward, rotating my shoulders to make sure they were intact before resting my hands on my lower back and cracking my spine back into the place. The woman watched, a look of horror on her face.

"Thank you," I told her, as I pushed myself off of the ground and into a standing position. She still held the handkerchief soaked with my blood, her eyes wider than before. "If they ask," I continued, "don't tell them where I went. Please. I'm not the bad guy." She nodded her head weakly in response. I didn't look at the dead man to the side of me as I took off running, heading down the street. I wasn't sure where I was going, my body still mending and my abilities still recuperating, but I knew I couldn't stay close. As soon as everything was back to normal in my head, I'd be able to start looking for Steve's energy. I could only hope they hadn't gotten to him yet.

At the rail on the side of the road I leaped into the channel sloshing below. The chilled water was relieving and invigorating, and I let myself stay under for a moment before emerging. I brushed my mess of wet hair out of my eyes and surveyed the area. The Washington Monument was visible from here on the land, which gave me some indication of the direction I was facing. The Triskelion was still just behind me, which meant I'd better start swimming if I didn't want to get caught. I sucked in a deep breath and ducked under water, pushing myself through the waves, wishing this nightmare would end.

I picked up on Steve's energy about an hour later, after I had found my way out of the water and sloshed through the streets in my wet clothes. I was drawing too much attention. I entered a shopping mall, a trail of water behind me, and quickly scanned the directory at the entrance. I found a clothing store several steps away, which I entered and promptly grabbed the first set of clothes I saw that might fit. I ignored the baffled shopkeeper who asked me to leave as I entered the dressing room, stripping off my heavy wet clothes and changing into the new ones. The pants were a size too big, the t-shirt too small, but I didn't have time to go out and browse for something different. I left my old clothes on the floor and exited the dressing room, pulling a hat off of a rack and setting it on top of my wet mass of hair. The woman at the counter stared as I picked a set of sunglasses off of the display to the left of her, sliding them onto my face.

"Do you have a hair tie?" I asked her, looking at her from beyond the dark glasses.

"Are you going to buy all that?" she asked, instead of answering.

"Of course," I lied. She looked skeptical, but pulled a bag out from below her, fishing through it for a moment before pulling out a tie.

"...I always have a few extra," she explained, and for a moment I felt horrible robbing her. She handed it over and I pulled it through my hair a few times, securing as much as I could in a pony tail. I readjusted the hat, having to undo the back of it to get it around my hair, and pushed the glasses closer to my face.

"You're very sweet," I said, "and I'm so sorry this is happening. But this is a real emergency. I'll remember you for your help." I backed up, giving her a sympathetic look as she stared, mouth agape.

"I—I'll have to call mall security," she said, her hand hovering below the counter, where I knew there was an alert button she could push.

"I'll come back and pay for it when I can, okay? I promise you. I'm one of the good guys," I tried to explain. She didn't look like she was buying it. I spun and quickly headed towards the entrance, dodging past a few racks and displays as I did. The alarms at the door went off as I passed, and I quickly ducked behind one of the decorative plants as the security passed by to inspect, jogging over in their fancy uniforms. I ripped the tags off of the clothes and deposited them in the plant pot before I sneaked away, trying to focus on finding Steve. Now that I was close enough, I felt Natasha's presence as well. I couldn't tell if this was a good or a bad thing, but I could only hope for the best.

I tracked them until I got to the entrance of an electronics store, the electric waves and signals emitting from inside almost enough to make me turn around. Having so many laptops, phones, tablets, and whatever else technology they had crammed in the tiny room was already giving me a substantial headache. I sucked it up, though, when my eyes fell on Natasha's red hair. I only got a glimpse, a hood pulled over her head, but I knew it was her. Inhaling to collect my nerves, I entered the store. A young clerk asked me if I needed any help, and I told her I was interested in laptops. Steve stood beside Natasha near the edge of the store, talking to another clerk, Natasha busy at work on the laptop before her. She was up to something, definitely.

"Right this way," my clerk told me, a smile plastered on her face as she lead me to examine some of the products nearby. She asked me a few questions about what exactly I was looking for, and I gave her several halfhearted answers, keeping my eyes on the two across the room. Natasha glanced up and met my eyes, and I made a point to nod at her before she lowered them again, back to work on her laptop. I heard their store clerk laugh, and then Natasha gave a very convincing laugh in return.

"Did you have a color preference?" mine asked me, and I turned my attention to her for a moment.

"I'm a fan of blue, actually," I said, stealing another glance. Their clerk had left, and the two were quietly talking. Natasha pointed to the screen, saying something, simultaneously pulling a flashdrive out of the side of the laptop and stuffing it in her pocket. Steve lifted his head, a baseball hat casting a shadow over his eyes as he met mine. My heart thudded in my chest. I desperately wished I could telecommunicate with him, let him know how much danger he was in, if he didn't know already. I wanted to offer my help, offer anything, let him know I'd do whatever he asked. I'd make his safety my chief concern. I'd protect him at all costs. He looked away from me and he and Natasha quickly moved across the room, out of the store. _No, not yet. Hold on. Wait_ , I thought, tapping my fingers anxiously across my leg.

"You know," I told my clerk, "I think I'll have to think about it. But I'll be back in when I decide. What's your name?"

"Ashley," she said, motioning to a name plate on her chest. I smiled at her and nodded, feigning as much politeness as managable, then took my leave as quickly as I could without looking suspicious. I scanned the crowd in hopes to find Steve and Natasha still close, or maybe even waiting for me.

They were nowhere to be found.

I could feel them a ways off and headed off in that direction, but was suddenly seized by the arm as I walked past one of the store fronts. Turning to the side, my eyes fell on the SHIELD logo, plastered on the shoulder of the one who'd grabbed me. I could feel my heart beating in my throat. How had they found me already? No...they'd been here for Steve. I was stupid enough to go exactly where he was, exactly where there were already SHIELD agents lurking around.

"Don't fight, Miss Green," the agent said, hand tight around my arm. "You'll be dead in a millisecond if you do." I didn't doubt it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see other agents in dark clothes, most likely sitting up high, snipers, ready to kill on command. My heart ached for Steve and Natasha, but it was clear that I had no choice. If I made a scene here, they could get caught. Or, perhaps an innocent civilian could get hurt. I came all this way for nothing. Fought for nothing. The agent led me out.

I was escorted back to the Triskelion, but was relieved to hear that Steve and Natasha had gotten away. For now. This time I didn't fight as they took me down the halls, eventually letting me into a room that I wasn't familiar with. It was plain, the walls and floor gray, only a single chair and table sitting in the center. At this table sat Kathrine. There was another door behind her, closed, and I quickly ruled it out as an escape plan. She'd make eye contact with me before I could get there, I was sure. And if she made eye contact, I was powerless.

"I hope you're done running around," she said, crossing her fingers in between each other, a familiar gesture. I didn't respond. An agent behind me locked the door, a chill creeping up my spine.

"It seems the mind control wore off, didn't it," she continued, staying seated. "That's never been done before. You're a lot stronger than I thought you were. Good for you."

"...the voice was yours," I said, my lips seeming to numb as I said it. The buzzing was back in my ears. Suddenly it made so much sense—the voice in my head had been hers all along. Now that I said it out loud, it seemed so obvious. I balled my fingers up in the fabric of my stolen, oversized pants, feeling faint.

"It's been planted in there for quite some time. We were just waiting to wake it up," she explained. Now when she spoke all I could hear was the malicious voice that had been attacking my thoughts for months. It made me want to throw up.

"We?" I asked, trying to push the nausea away. I couldn't lose it here.

"It's been part of the plan for a very long time. I wish we could have told you. I know you struggle with fitting in. If only you had known you were such a big part of something." A smile lined her lips, but there was something off about it. "You're the star of our show. But, we couldn't risk telling you. I apologize for that." She leaned against the back of the chair. "Now you get to know. It's finally time."

This room felt suffocating.

The door from behind Kathrine creaked open, two figures standing just beyond. They entered, one leading the other, until they were fully in view. I felt my heart stop. The first figure was Andon, his hair even more of a mess than usual, one of his eyes darkened with bruising. Upon seeing me he hobbled over, as if his legs were failing him.

"Annabelle," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. But I couldn't look at him. My eyes were glued on the man who had followed him, who was now shutting the door, turning to me with a grin that made my blood boil. My father. Those green eyes— _my_ green eyes—watched me smugly.

"I knew it," I said, somewhat quietly, my words seemingly getting stuck in the back of my throat. The pills, the power-dampening technology...all of it really had been his. In my gut I'd known he was there, somewhere, and here he was. Front and center. I choked back tears.

"Your father provided you to us when you were quite young. We doubted your ability at first, but you proved yourself eventually. The way you killed Seth Hughes when you were only seventeen was quite impressive," Kathrine said. I clenched my fists, trying not to let that memory seep back into my head. My limbs were numb.

"What's going on? Do you know what she's talking about? Why are we here?" Andon asked, but my father reached forward and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking him back. Panic erupted in my chest.

"Don't hurt him!" I shouted, clenching my fists tighter. Andon and I had grown so close while we'd been working together, and it would be wrong to say that I didn't have any feelings for him at all. The thought of him getting injured, especially by my father's hand, was devastating. Still, my father didn't speak. Instead, he released Andon, where he ran back to my side.

"We planted the seed when you were young. Subtly. If we ever needed it. 'Captain America, the perfect soldier.' 'Captain America, _your_ savior.' When they discovered him in the ice, we knew we'd made a good decision. We needed to start acting, not just making plans, so I made you write him letters. For days you wrote letters. Mindlessly. Over and over, the same words. 'Dear Captain America,' on and on."

The lightness in her voice infuriated me. Andon, beside me, was visibly quivering.

"But, you thought you'd been writing them for years, didn't you?" she asked, a strange grin lining her lips. My heart skipped, but I refused to answer her. "You thought that he'd been your role model, the love of your life, for such a long time. Yet, really, all of those letters were written in the span of a few days. And then, we put them away, and picked one to send. I made you sign your name. We found an opportunity to get you to New York, close to him, and we took it. You were supposed to find him and take him down during that battle, the one where the team was new, weak, ready to be taken down by a girl that no one would expect. But, you did something we didn't anticipate. You helped them. You saved people. You got yourself, a perfectly good tool to take down Captain America, killed. So, we had to come up with a new plan.

"Before you could regenerate, your father put the ability stunting metal inside of you. We wiped your slate. We tried to think of a new plan. Late last year you were given some 'sleeping pills,' activators, meant to make you go berserk. Your father was brave, sacrificing has lab for our greater cause. We hoped that the pills would make you destroy everything, and you did. As soon as you were out we flew you to New York and dropped you off. We left you for dead, really, on the off chance you would wake up. And you did. Lucky us.

"Stark Tower was ingrained in your brain. You did exactly what you were told to do. You went in. You were accepted by that idiot Tony Stark. And then, he brought Captain Rogers right to you. You won his trust. We were hoping you'd make him fall in love with you, but I suppose that was never necessary. You did splendidly either way." She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear casually. "And now, we're emerging. We need you to do the job you were intended for. But, we can't have that if you keep breaking out of my mind control. What did you do to get out of it?"

"I love Steve," I said, my voice shaky, my palms sticky with sweat. It was a stupid thing to say after all she'd just told me. A wide grin spread across my father's face as I said it. Yet I couldn't help but let it fall right out of my mouth, like it was an automatic reaction. Of course, it was—it was programmed in me. But how could it feel so real? My entire body was shaking, and I felt like Andon's firm hand on my shoulder was the only thing keeping me grounded. Even though he was just as scared as I was, and shaking furiously, his hand was steady.

"That's the spirit," Kathrine said with a grin. "And since you adore him so much, you want to go after him, don't you? He's long overdue for his death. He must be suffering, don't you think? Don't you want to end his suffering?"

"You're disgusting," I spat out, though my words sounded much less intimidating when every syllable shook as they left my lips.

"Yes, that is the problem. You're a little too strong to hold my control right now. We need something to fix that. That's why we've brought your friend in." I finally looked at Andon, fear in his eyes. He tried to fake a smile for me, squeezing my shoulder in reassurance.

"You really like this man, don't you? He's been weakening your induced infatuation with Captain Rogers for some time. It's really very unfortunate," Kathrine continued. An agent yanked him back, the color in my face draining as he held a gun to Andon's head.

"No, no," I said quickly, almost a whimper, trying to reach out for him. A few agents behind me grabbed my wrists and held me back. I'd never felt so helpless. If I tried to fight this, Andon would get a bullet in the head. I swallowed hard, trying not to throw up. If I could behave now, comply, then Andon would live. I was desperately trying to think through a way out of this—if I was careful, I could save everyone. Kathrine could be deceived, and I could turn her plan against her to keep everyone safe. It didn't have to be this way. It didn't...

"My dear Annabelle,"—Kathrine said, standing—"you're just too strong for your own good."

The trigger clicked. I screamed. My body went numb as my ears rung from the sound of the gunshot, my heart constricting painfully in my chest. I couldn't tell if I was still screaming or not, or if the sound had died on my lips. My world was a blur. Andon was at my feet. Something warm was spattered on my face. Kathrine approached me and cupped my chin in her hands, and I met her eyes.


	38. Book II Pt I Ch 11

**Naomi**

"You've got to be kidding me," Naomi spat, reading the message on her phone. _Steve Rogers. Wanted. Dead or alive_. She shot off of her couch, throwing several pillows in a rage.

"What the hell did you do now, Rogers? Give me a break," she continued on to herself, kicking her coffee table. _Ouch._ Cursing loudly, she trudged to the door and grabbed her shoes, slipping them on. She was in sweats and a t-shirt, not exactly SHIELD attire, but she didn't care. Even when she was on 'vacation' she couldn't catch a break, it seemed. She slammed the front door as she left.

She never liked Pierce. And she especially didn't like him now as she stormed into his office, looking at his wrinkly old face, fuming.

"Care explaining to me what's going on?" she asked, trying to pull up her sweats as they threatened to drop over her hips.

"Ah, you're shocked too. We all are," Pierce said, his hands behind his back. He was looking out one of his back windows, a curious look on his face from what Naomi could see.

"What did he do? Why in the world would we suddenly be on a manhunt for Captain America? He's the purest thing I've ever met in my life."

"I can't relay too many details, but it has to do with Fury's death," he explained. Naomi's heart skipped a beat. She'd gotten the call late last night about Fury, and she still hadn't had time to process it. Hearing Pierce talk about it so lightly made her even more angry.

"Steve wouldn't kill anyone that didn't deserve it. And I'm sure Fury didn't deserve what he got. He was a pain in the ass sometimes, but not enough of one to drive Captain Prettyboy to kill him. This is ludicrous," she said, her words getting faster and faster as she spoke.

"We have the facts. We've issued the order. I understand that you're still on leave," he examined her, taking in her appearance, "but we'd like you to join the hunt if you're up for it."

"Eat my ass," she spat, then cringed at herself. _Not one of your greatest insults, Naomi._ "Steve is innocent, I can guarantee it. I'm going to prove it to you before you can get some junior agent out there after him. Got it?"

"Do what you must. But I've got to warn you, I don't think it would be in your best interest to go against me."

"Sounds like something a dictator would say," she commented, then waved him off. "Fire me if you want. I'm not hunting down Steve Rogers. No way."

"Suit yourself."

"Where's Annabelle Green?" _She has to be out looking for Steve_ , Naomi thought. That girl was completely devoted.

"Agent Taylor, you expect me to keep track of everyone? Besides, she isn't even an agent, and therefor not my responsibility." He wouldn't turn to look at her, eyes still gazing outside. She breathed heavily out of her nose, trying not to lash out at him any more than she already had.

"Fine. I'll find her myself. I'd be a fantastic Director of SHIELD." She said the latter more to herself as she exited the office, more peeved than when she went in.

The Triskelion was a madhouse. People were bustling everywhere, on their phones, toting around suitcases or files, most likely all on the search for Steve. Naomi couldn't believe that everyone was just going along with it. They couldn't really think he was guilty, right? Was she the only one that realized what a cinnamon roll that guy was? She passed several people and stopped before the elevator, hitting the button. The sooner she could get out of here and get home to investigate, the better. Would Steve pick up if she called him? Did the forties show-boy even have a phone? The elevator doors didn't open. She pressed the button again, then again, then eventually banged her fist on the door.

"Of course," she said loudly, getting the attention of a few people passing by. She wasn't supposed to be using her legs a lot, but it was looking like she'd have to make the long journey down to the other side of the building to find another elevator, or even take the stairs. She went for stairs. There was something thrilling about doing everything her doctor told her not to. She pulled open the door to the stairwell and started down briskly, her legs already aching from the sudden exercise after so long. Still, it felt good to be up and around again, taking two steps at a time. She could only hope her legs wouldn't give out in the process.

A little way down she had to abruptly stop, a man laying on the floor of the stairwell. Naomi ducked down and took his pulse, concluding that he was unconscious.

"What happened to you, buddy?" she asked, checking his ID tag. _Jonathan Weist. Level five._ She tucked it back into place and stood up, glancing around the stairwell. _Must have fallen down the stairs_ , she thought, carefully stepping over him. She didn't have time to drag him out into the hall.

"Sorry, dude, hopefully someone else will pick you up," she said, continuing on down the stairs alone. By the time she reached the bottom floor her legs were killing her, but she tried not to show any sign of it as she emerged out into the main hall. Just as on the previous floors, this one was bustling with people. She walked past a clean-up crew who was shoveling glass into bins, speaking to each other in hushed whispers. Looking up, she saw that the glass was from the roof, where a large hole had been busted open just above her. Her heart fluttered slightly. Had Steve done that? Had someone else, while chasing him? She picked up her pace, aching legs aside. There was an ambulance outside. This made her feel even sicker.

By the time she made it home she was a mess, her thoughts running wild. Where were her friends? What the hell was going on? She expected things to fall apart after Fury's death, but she didn't expect this. She quickly plopped herself onto her couch and slid her laptop over and onto her lap, starting it up and tapping along the keyboard, as if this would make it run faster. She wasn't a whiz at computers, but she knew enough to get her search going, checking social media and news reports to see if she could find anything. The only problem was that if she found something, SHIELD had probably found it first. She alone in her apartment couldn't compete with thousands of SHIELD agents searching for the same thing. After realizing this, she threw her laptop away from her in frustration.

"New plan," she told herself, pulling out her phone. She found Annabelle's number and pressed 'call' waiting eagerly as it rang. One ring. Two rings. Three. The voicemail came on. Naomi had to resist chucking her phone at the wall. She was out of ideas. Still, she wasn't going to give up. She'd call her little sister, her friends, family, get everyone she knew to look out for Steve, and Annabelle, if they could. She wasn't going to let anything bad happen. She couldn't.

It was nearing midnight, and Naomi hadn't stopped searching. She'd tried hacking into SHIELD, which even she knew was a ridiculous thing to do, but she was getting desperate. She'd skipped dinner. She didn't plan on going to bed. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep, even if she tried. Her legs still ached and she grew more and more agitated as the hours flew by. She'd called everyone she could. She'd done everything in her power. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't just wait.

A light knock on her door made her jump, her body tense. She took a moment to calm herself down and run a hand through her messy hair before standing and going to the door, holding her breath. When she pulled it open, a wave of relief rolled over her.

Annabelle was on the other side.

"Oh, thank God," Naomi said, pulling her friend by the arm inside. "Everyone has gone crazy. Everything is such a mess."

"I know," Annabelle said, patting her once on the shoulder.

"Please tell me you know where Steve is." Naomi's heart leaped with the idea of Annabelle knowing something, anything. Anything was good.

"I saw him, but I wasn't able to catch up with him. He got away from me. Now I have no idea where he is. Trust me, I've been searching all night," she said. Naomi's shoulders slumped.

"Me too. Well, as much as I can from here. I wouldn't be much help on foot," she admitted.

"Your legs are still giving you trouble?" her friend asked. She nodded very slightly.

"I did too much walking today. Should be back to normal in no time." She took a deep breath. "I've called everyone I know. I have them out looking for him. Hopefully they'll find him before SHIELD does. I hate to say that...but SHIELD is in the wrong this time. Or, rather, Pierce is. That guy is kind of a creep anyway."

"He's doing what he thinks is best," Annabelle said, meeting her eyes. Naomi decided not to make another comment. She didn't know her friend had such a high regard of Pierce. Or, knowing Annabelle, she was probably just trying to get on his good side. After all, he was basically the leader of SHIELD at this point. And Annabelle was so desperate to impress SHIELD.

"I'm going to keep at it. Cause SHIELD some problems, if I have to. I just want all of this crazy to blow over, and for Steve to be safe."

"But what if he's guilty?" Annabelle asked. Naomi could hardly believe the words had come out of her mouth.

"What do you mean? Of course he isn't. You know Steve. How could you say something like that?" she said, almost snapping. She didn't want to yell at her friend, especially not at a time like this, but she was being way too ridiculous.

"I'm just saying, there's a lot of evidence against him at this point," Annabelle continued.

"Steve Rogers. This is Steve Rogers we're talking about. The guy you've been infatuated with for months, years, however the hell long. How could you say that?" She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to collect herself, but quickly lost it as Annabelle put a hand on her shoulder. She knocked it off.

"Are you so desperate to please SHIELD that you're willing to throw the love of your life under the bus? Are you going to wait around for some agent to find him and take him in?" she spat.

"I'm going to be the one to find him," Annabelle said after a moment, a strange look in her eyes. "And I can't have you getting in the way of that."

"What, you think he'll go all googly-eyed on you if you save his ass? 'Oh, Annabelle, my savior, my love!' Call me crazy, Annie, but I don't think it's going to go down like that. We can work together on this. Okay?"

"I can't," she responded. Before Naomi could react, Annabelle had thrown a fist at her, knocking her hard on the mouth. Naomi stumbled, stunned, and looked down at her friend with wide eyes. Her lip stung. Not only had Annabelle just hit her in the face, _hard_ , but she had added a little bit of that electricity to it. _What the hell?_

"Are you crazy?" she asked, but was met with another fist. This one she managed to avoid, barely, swooping to the side. Her legs complained at the sudden movement. Deciding not to ask any more questions, she quickly got some distance between herself and her friend, wiping the blood that had started pooling in the corner of her lips. Annabelle followed after her, silently, her eyes ablaze with blue light. Naomi recognized that. The only time she'd seen it before was when Annabelle was fighting the enemy. She channeled that blue energy to destroy those against her. But why was she doing this? Why now? Had she gone crazy? She dodged another swing of Annabelle's arm, her hair raising with the narrow miss. That meant Annabelle really was using her abilities seriously—it wasn't just a spark now. And she was using them against Naomi. Her friend. Her good friend. _Annabelle, please tell me what's happening_ , Naomi thought, swooping out of the way again. The way Annabelle moved was so fluid, almost like she was dancing, and Naomi found it hard to keep dodging. Not to mention that Annabelle was _fast._

Naomi swallowed some of her unease and ducked behind her, striking her hard in the back of the neck with two fingers. Annabelle's legs quivered and she lost her balance for a moment, enough time for Naomi to make it to her drawer and pull out a gun. She didn't really use guns, relying more on her martial arts and knowledge of pressure points to get the job done, but this was a different situation. Annabelle seemed like she was here to kill, and Naomi couldn't let that happen. She held the gun up in defense.

"I will shoot you, Annie, so cut it out," she spat, trying to keep her cool. Her legs threatened to collapse under her.

"Then do it. I'll bet you won't," she responded, running at her again. Instead of pulling the trigger, Naomi ducked out of the way.

"See?" Annabelle said again, keeping her distance for a moment.

"You're my friend. I thought we were friends. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I have to. This is what I'm supposed to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is my job, Naomi," she said, her tone exasperated. For a moment Naomi recognized something familiar in her friend's face, that frustrated annoyance that she got when she was complaining about something she had to do for work, or something she wasn't allowed to work on. "Don't you see? I can finally do my job. And you're getting in the way of Steve, so I have to put you down first. Okay? Please don't make this difficult. I don't have to kill you. I only need to make sure you stay down, and let me do my work," she continued.

"You sound like a crazy person," Naomi said, holding the gun up again. "What are you going to do once you find him?"

"I'm going to kill him. It'll be good for him. And I have to do it. I have to be there. I love him, and I have to be the one to end his life."

"What kind of messed up logic is that?"

"I don't need logic. Not anymore. Logic was tearing my life apart. All I need to do now is trust and obey. Obey Hydra." Naomi thought she saw Annabelle's lip quiver at the name, though her eyes were still cold, calculated, and...distant.

"Hydra?" Naomi backed up a few steps, until her back hit the wall. "Hydra was destroyed."

"No. I was raised Hydra. My family has been loyal for all of these years. And there are others like me. Others like my family. It's finally time to stop hiding."

"You're not Hydra, Annabelle, who told you that?"

"No one needed to tell me. This is what I am. This is my grand purpose. Why else do you think I'm here?"

"To be a good person and work with SHIELD and the Avengers, and to protect people, and to prove that you're the superhero I know you are."

Annabelle let out a harsh laugh.

"Superheroes don't exist, Naomi. I waited for years. _Years._ My father abused me, beat me, experimented on me. He made me feel like I was _nothing._ SHIELD knew who I was and what I did, and you can't tell me that they didn't know what he did to me. But no one came. No one saved me. I have to save myself now." Annabelle had never looked so angry. Naomi pressed herself closer against the wall.

"How is this saving yourself?" she asked.

"Because I'm giving up. Don't you see how stupid I was to assume that there was good out there that would come get me? There is no good, not that we can judge. That's why this has to work. I love Steve, I do. With every fiber of my being. But he doesn't know the pain I do. And I need to put him down so that he doesn't have to be in a world so cruel." She inhaled, deep and prolonged, almost as if she had completely run herself out of breath by talking. "After Hydra does what they need to do, everything will be okay. Those who are in the wrong will be erased. No one will hurt anyone again."

"This isn't you. This isn't right," Naomi said.

"You know nothing about me," she snapped, then ran at Naomi again. Out of space to move, she was forced to pull the trigger. The bullet collided with Annabelle's shoulder, sending her back a few feet. Naomi felt sick.

"Final warning," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Her legs quivered.

"I didn't want to have to kill you. This is your own fault," Annabelle countered, then started towards her as if the bullet hadn't even done anything. Naomi braced herself. Before Annabelle could get to her, however, the door swung open. A shower of bullets were released into the room, sending Annabelle to the ground in a pool of blood, her body falling just as gracefully as Annabelle herself always was. Naomi couldn't move, her body still, her legs unresponsive. She tried not to look down, even though she could already see Annabelle's hair sprawled out around her face, her eyes dim and out of focus.

"Agent Taylor, are you alright?" The voice was Maria Hill's. She let out a silent breath of relief, though her body stayed tense.

"Did you kill her?" she asked desperately, refusing to look at the rest of Annabelle's body on the ground. Her heart clenched. She turned her eyes away from her friend's face.

"She's a fast healer. She'll be up soon. I suggest you come with me before she has the chance. Don't worry, I'm one of the good guys," Maria said.

"How do I know that?"

"The same way I know you're good. You're on our side. Steve's side. Fury's side." Naomi could only nod. She tucked her gun into her sweatpants, pulling the elastic tight to make sure it stayed.

"Where are we going?" she asked, after a moment of collecting herself.

"You'll see when we get there." Maria left, and Naomi had no choice but to follow. She braved a last glance at Annabelle as she pulled the door shut on her way out, her friend's body sprawled out, full of holes, covered in blood. Being a part of SHIELD had always been rough, but she hadn't been prepared for this. Then again, nothing could have prepared her, she felt. It was going to be a long night.


	39. Book II Pt I Ch 12

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Maria said, taking a glance away from the road for a moment to look at Naomi seated beside her. Naomi's eyes were glued to the passing scenery, her forehead against the glass.

"She was my friend," she said, solemnly.

"I know. It's hard."

"Do you have Steve? Is he safe?"

"We don't have him yet. But we know where he is."

"Good." Naomi closed her eyes, mildly relieved at this news. Her heart still felt heavy in her chest, but at least there was some good news. She could focus on the good, and save the bad for later.

The two sat in silence for the remainder of the trip, the winding roads and smell of exhaust almost lulling Naomi to sleep. _No, you can't sleep. There are things to do. You can't give up now_ , she thought. All she wanted to do was drift off, though. Away from all of the horror. _You wanted this. You wanted SHIELD. Don't be a wuss._

"Here," Maria spoke nearly an hour later, waking Naomi out of the lull. "I have to run. Get out here, follow that path, and head inside. You shouldn't have any trouble. They're expecting you."

"I expect a party in my honor," Naomi commented halfheartedly, stepping out of the car and onto the gravel road outside. As soon as she shut the door Maria was already driving off, kicking up dust as she went. After waving the dust away and giving a few coughs, Naomi took a moment to examine her surroundings. She'd been dropped near a concrete bridge, trees and various foliage heavily populating the rest of the area. Giving her legs a slap each for good measure, she headed up to the bridge to cross it. Birds sang from within the forested area surrounding her, the air soft and still, as if time had frozen and nothing bad had happened. For a moment she felt like she might be able to forget everything.

Across the bridge sat a large concrete building, looking harsh and out of place among the deep green of the trees surrounding it. She'd been to bunkers before, various safehouses, but they never seemed to lose their cold appearance. If there was a safehouse involved, it meant there was something out there causing trouble. She just couldn't feel comfortable knowing that. She crossed the path ahead of it and stood before one of the large metal doors, wondering how many people were on the other side. If there were rogue agents like Annabelle running around, how did they know who to trust? Her heart twisted at the thought of her friend, and she pushed away the thought as best she could. She'd never been good at making female friends. Or, any friends for that matter. Naomi was fully aware that she was difficult to deal with, too brutally honest and rude for a lot of people to handle. Had Annabelle only been friends with her to get inside information that she could later use against her? Had one of her only friends been a lie?

She knocked her fist against the metal of the door a bit too harshly, the sound echoing through the wooded area. The birds nearby ceased their chirping, leaving her in a dead silence that made her spine tingle. When there was no answer, and the silence grew too daunting, she simply let herself in. She was expecting reinforcements, guards at the door, anything, but she was met with an empty hall. And more silence.

"Hello?" she called into the quiet, the large hall echoing her words back to her.

"In here, Agent Taylor," she heard a voice call, softly. She scanned the area until she found a man standing near an open doorway. He lifted his hand, beckoning her his way. She hesitantly obeyed. She didn't like not knowing what she was going to find on the other side of that doorway. But, considering Maria, whom she trusted, had dropped her here, she had no choice but to blindly follow along and hope for the best. The man ushered her down a few concrete halls, not attempting to make any sort of small talk. Naomi wished he would explain the situation, give her anything, but after a few minutes she realized he was a man of silence. She just had to be patient, which she wasn't very good at.

After a few winding halls she was presented a room, the lights from within much brighter than the dimly lit walls she'd been traveling between. After some coaxing from the man, she entered.

"Agent Taylor. Nice of you to finally join us," a voice chimed. She held her breath as her eyes fell on the speaker: Nick Fury.

"So you're not dead," she said, regretting that she didn't have anything more thoughtful to say.

"Not yet," he responded.

"I should have known better." She crossed the room to be at his side. He still didn't look great, tucked into a hospital bed that had been wheeled into the center of the room, which, like the rest of the building, looked like a dim warehouse. She'd never seen him look so tired. Still, there was something about the glint in his eye that soothed her, made her feel like maybe everything wasn't lost. He was alive. Maria was on her way to get Steve. They'd figure things out.

"How are your legs?" Fury asked after a moment. "You can sit, you know. Pull up a chair. Relax."

"I don't think it's possible for me to relax right now, sir."

"Try." He gestured towards a metal chair nearby. The man who had escorted Naomi pulled the chair over closer and offered it to her. After a moment of hesitation, she lowered herself down into it.

"What's going on, Fury?" she asked quietly, after letting herself settle.

"A lot. We'll discuss it in detail when everyone is here."

"Everyone, meaning?"

"Captain Rogers and agent Romanoff are on the loose. Maria's going to find a way to pick them up. Until they get here, we won't get into it. Give yourself a little break."

"How can you say that?" She stood, but her legs wobbled beneath her at the sudden motion. After a few seconds of struggle, she sunk back into the chair.

"Don't let this ruin all the progress you've made. Relax. Get a clear head. Get control of your body again." She inhaled as he spoke, then closed her eyes.

Naomi had always been an energetic girl. She'd grown up with her father, a man consumed by the life of adventure and art, who had showed her the world in a way no one else could have. It was just the two of them, living in a rickety old house in the middle of nowhere, high up in the mountains. The house was spacious and warm. It was the most inviting place Naomi had ever laid eyes upon. Though it was only her and her father, she never felt lonely. She loved the life they had, spending their days hiking and eating peanut butter sandwiches, enjoying all life had to offer. Life was good, until it wasn't.

She could still recall the day things had changed. She was eight years old. Her hike that day with her father had been cut short by a rain storm that had rolled in, earlier than usual. They were caught in the downpour, forced to wait it out until they could safely make it home. It lasted forever, she recalled, and when it was over their dirt path directing them home had been completely washed out. Her father was all smiles, though. 'We'll have to make our own path,' he'd said, 'nothing wrong with that.' They set out across the tall grass, wading through it like water, the mud squishing beneath their feet. Naomi rolled her pants up, hoping to save them from getting caked with mud and weighing her down. The sky remained clouded over, offering them a cool shade.

When thinking of the moment it happened, Naomi couldn't quite remember what event came first. She remembered the bite. She remembered the tall grass engulfing her, the mud sticking to her short brown hair. She remembered the foam at her mouth, and how it tasted...salty. She thought of salted caramel taffy. She didn't remember, however, her father's voice, nor the sensation as he picked her up and ran off with her, yelling things to the sky. She didn't remember hearing or feeling any of it. She must have been in pain, she thought, but she couldn't recall it. The next thing she was able to remember were the bright hospital lights, an unfamiliar face inches from her own as she woke up. They were shining flashlights in her eyes, sticking needles in her arms, saying things she couldn't fully understand. She remembered that all she wanted was her father, and the rest of her peanut butter sandwich that she'd left in her hiking bag.

When she was fully aware, the unfamiliar people in white coats told her that she was paralyzed from the waist down. She didn't fully comprehend it at the time, and asked repeatedly, 'when will I be able to get up and go see my dad?' She couldn't possibly understand. Her father met her later, after the unfamiliar people had filed out and left her alone. She'd never seen him look so sad, so defeated. 'A snake got you,' he told her, trying to keep his composure. 'They saved you, but you can't walk anymore, buttercup. We can't go on hikes anymore.' Out of everything, this disappointed her the most.

Things went downhill from there. Her father abandoned their beloved mountain home and bought a place in the city, where they could be closer to the hospital. Naomi wasn't allowed to leave for a while, but when she was, she had a fit. She wanted nothing but to go home to her mountain house. She refused to be taken to their new apartment on the bottom floor, which was easily accessible for wheelchairs. But what could she do? She couldn't run away. They plopped her into a chair and wheeled her into the foreign place that her father insisted was her new home. For months, she didn't do anything. She sat in her chair and quietly obeyed as her father told her to eat food and take medicine, big, nasty pills that her little throat could hardly get down. Just as she'd lost her ability to use her legs, her father lost his ability to smile. She'd never been so miserable. She gave in to her sadness. She became nothing more than a zombie.

Then, something clicked. Her stubborn, tomboyish attitude slowly returned. She began to push herself, throwing herself out of her chair, using railings to try to force her legs to obey her, force her feet to move under her. At first, she made no progress. But, determined even at that age, she continued to try. She put her heart into gaining control of her legs, the light returning to her eyes. She did exercises, ate specific foods, trained herself as hard as she could. By the age of twelve, she was able to walk. But walking wasn't enough for her. She pushed and pushed until she could run, sprint, command her legs in every way she could. She begged her father to enroll her in martial arts, dance classes, anything that could get her legs moving. Her doctors were astonished, baffled by the young girl's drive. She excelled in all of her classes. She hungered for more, constantly. At the age of eighteen she demanded to join SHIELD, catching the eye of Director Fury himself. He let her in. She pushed through all her classes, learned everything she needed to know and some. She trained in pressure points, body manipulation, anything that would get her moving. Refusing to take a gun like the other agents, she insisted on using her brute strength and quick reflexes to take down enemies. She was brilliant.

Yet, Naomi knew she still wasn't normal. In times of extreme stress, or when she was feeling overwhelmed and out of control, her legs failed her. Determined mentality aside, it still got to her sometimes. It wasn't at all consistent, but it was enough to frustrate her. Several weeks before Fury's 'death,' her legs had given up on her during a mission. No one was hurt because of her falter, but she'd still been pulled from combat for several weeks as a result of it. Fury had called for that temporary removal. But, maybe...

"Did you keep me out of the field because you knew this was going to happen?" Naomi asked, looking to Fury in his hospital bed. That glint in his eye flared up again.

"Something seemed fishy. I wanted you out of there."

"Did you think I wouldn't be able to handle myself?"

"I didn't want to take the chance. I know you're capable. I know without a doubt that you can take on anything. I wanted to give you a break, save you from any situation that might have come up."

"But I could have helped. I could have done something."

"You didn't need to. Besides, you're here now. Now is when the real trouble starts boiling up. Now we need you more than ever. And I'm glad to have you on our side," he said. She looked down at her hands, a small smile lining her face. "We need our big guns for this mess. Think you're up for this, Kobra?" Her heart fluttered at the nickname, a warm sensation spreading through her. Fury had always refused the name. She'd declared it for herself when she joined, defending it by saying it was the perfect code name for someone who could strike as fast as she could. But, really, it was more than that for her. She knew now a cobra hadn't been the snake to catch her all those years ago, but her father had always insisted on it. 'It was a huge cobra. Gigantic. I saw it with my own two eyes. It was easily two times the size of you, no, three! But you conquered it. You won over that cobra, buttercup. You did it.' She overcame the snake bite that threatened to leave her in one place forever. If she could do that, she was capable of anything.

"You can count on me," she said, lifting her eyes. Fury smiled.

"Good. We'll need you."

"We'll win this. Whatever 'this' is. I know it." She tapped her fingers along her legs, still enjoying the sensation after all these years. _We'll win this. We'll survive._


	40. Book II Pt I Ch 13

Steve and Natasha were escorted in hours later. They looked confused, disheveled, but Naomi had never been happier to see them. She sprung up from her chair, her legs feeling significantly better, and jogged over to them as they entered.

"About damn time," Fury said, adjusting in his bed. Natasha disregarded Naomi as she opened her mouth to speak and went to Fury's side, a mix of emotions clouding her face. She had a limp to her walk, her clothes tattered and worn as if she'd seen plenty of action today already. Naomi was sure she had. She was also sure that she herself didn't look the greatest, after her encounter with Annabelle.

"Give her some time," Steve said, nodding at Naomi. His face was straight, set, as it often was when he was focused on business. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. She'd been sure all of Annabelle's affections had been one sided, but what if they hadn't? How was she supposed to tell Steve that his close friend was a rogue agent? And for HYDRA, of all things. She bit on the side of her cheek, choosing to save the information for later.

Another man entered the room, someone she didn't recognize, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He was tall, though not as tall as Steve, with dark skin and even darker eyes. Naomi had always been a fan of dark eyes. And, she had to admit, she found him incredibly attractive. Just the thing to distract her.

"Authorized personnel only, unless you're here to provide entertainment," she called to him, trying to lighten the mood. The darkness, both physical and spiritual, in the room were really weighing down on her. She had to wonder how Annabelle ever functioned, being able to physically feel other people's emotions. _No, don't think about her_ , Naomi told herself. Instead, she forced an aloof smile.

"Oh, sure, yeah, I can provide entertainment," the man spoke, a grin lining his lips. She liked him already.

"Naomi Taylor. SHIELD agent. Master martial artist. You can call me Kobra, if you want. It's kind of my code name."

"Just because I used it once does not mean it's your official code name," Fury called from the bed, but she ignored him.

"Kobra. Classy. I dig it," the man replied. "Sam Wilson. Formally Airforce. And I just got thrown into a world of crazy."

"You'll get used to it," she said.

"Miss Romanoff, please let me tend to your wounds," the doctor pleaded from across the room, trying to get a gentle hold on Natasha. She argued, but eventually let him lead her away to be treated. Luckily the tools needed were already in the room, so she didn't have to separate herself from Fury. Naomi understood the connection; Fury had done a lot for a lot of people. She felt extremely loyal to him for what he'd done. She could only imagine what Natasha felt. Instead of continuing to talk with Sam, in attempts to lift her mood more, she held her tongue. She didn't feel right flirting and joking around when there was such a serious matter at hand.

"They cut you open," Natasha started after a few moments of silence. "Your heart stopped." It was clear this was directed at Fury. Naomi had the same questions, and hoped that this time around Fury would be more open. He had said he'd explain when everyone got there, after all. But was this everyone? It looked like a rather small group to be taking on whatever menace truly existed within SHIELD.

Maria entered through the doorway, pulling a pair of gloves off. She nodded at Naomi and took a seat, looking a bit tired. _Great_ , Naomi thought, surveying the group, _huge HYDRA threat, and all we have are a few exhausted SHIELD agents_. She debated suggesting that they call Tony, or one of the other Avengers that might be around to assist. Something stopped her, though, and once again she held her tongue.

"Tetrodotoxin B. Slows the pulse to one beat a minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it," Fury said, responding to Natasha's statements.

"Why all the secrecy?" Steve cut in, that serious look still on his face. "Why not just tell us?"

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same thing," Naomi mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Any attempt on the Director's life had to look successful," Maria explained.

"Can't kill you if you're already dead," Fury added, a familiar glint in his eye. Naomi hated to admit it, but she actually missed his smug humor. "Besides," he continued, "I didn't know who to trust."

"Hydra has been operating within SHIELD. We know," Steve said bitterly. Naomi wondered if he already knew about Annabelle. And if Hydra was SHIELD-wide, how many other people had come out? She couldn't imagine her friends and coworkers secretly plotting her demise all this time. Hydra was full of some messed up people.

"We have several confirmed individuals. We just don't know how many more there are," Maria said.

"Who's confirmed?" Natasha asked. Once again, Naomi held her breath.

"Sitwell, for one. We know that," Steve replied. Natasha actually showed a hint of a smile, despite the situation at hand. Naomi would be sure to ask about that later, hoping for a decent story to cheer her up. She'd never liked Sitwell. Too stuffy.

"Pierce, as well. Which is why this is going to be a lot more difficult," Maria continued.

"Wrinkly old bastard," Naomi commented, warranting a look from Steve. She didn't apologize.

"We have a list that we've compiled. It would be easier to just show you," Maria said. She headed towards the doorway. "Oh," she added, "and we'll have to add Ms. Green. That was a new one." She stepped out. Naomi paled. Steve's face changed, contorted for a moment, which made her feel even sicker. He hadn't known.

"Annabelle?" he asked, looking around for answers. Natasha looked equally as surprised.

"She came to my house," Naomi started slowly, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "At first she just seemed a little odd, saying weird things that didn't seem quite like her. Then she tried to kill me. Or, I guess she said she didn't want to kill me, just get me out of the way. I don't know." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, recounting the situation. "She said she was working for Hydra. That it ran in her blood, and she'd been trained for it since she was a little girl. Or, something like that, I guess."

"Doctor Green is in our records as Hydra, Steve. We knew that," Natasha said quietly.

"She hates her father," Steve countered.

"Yes, but he still raised her. So much of who she was could have been an act," Naomi said, though the words felt like venom as they left her lips. She didn't want to believe it. But after what she'd witnessed, she had no choice. "It all could have been. So many of these people...they were all just pretending."

"She was hearing voices," Steve said, still trying. _Perhaps the affection hadn't been one sided after all_ , Naomi thought.

"Voices?" she asked, though she was growing tired of the conversation. She didn't want to discuss Annabelle. The more they talked about her, the more upset she got about it.

"She told me that. Right before I was attacked at the Triskelion. She seemed out of it, distressed. She said the voices were telling her I was bad."

"She's never exactly been stable," Fury pointed out.

"Maybe she was fighting with herself over what she truly believed," Naomi said, thinking out loud.

"Maybe they're controlling her. Some kind of freaky mind control. They're capable of that, aren't they?" Steve asked.

"Ordinarily I'd say yes," Fury said, though his face was still hard. "But with her abilities, I don't think the tactics we know of would take."

"Ms. Zindel, then. We know she has some kind of mental influence."

"Ms. Zindel has been a trusted member of SHIELD for years. Besides, she doesn't have that much power," Fury said.

"A lot of people were trusted," Natasha added solemnly. Fury's face tightened for a moment, then relaxed.

"I suppose it is possible. But I wouldn't get your hopes up. She's a dangerous asset to them. We still know very little about what she can do. If she attacks you, you'd better be ready to put her down. In any way you see fit." Naomi saw Steve's fists clench.

"I don't give up on my friends so easily," he said, his words almost menacing.

"He isn't your friend anymore, Steve," Natasha said, her voice a bit hoarse. "And neither is she. As much as we don't want to admit it."

"He?" Naomi asked.

"Bucky," Steve answered, which didn't relieve her confusion.

"His childhood friend," Natasha responded. "Turns out Steve isn't the only soldier they picked up from the war."

"And this Bucky guy, he's Hydra?"

"He's confused," Steve said. Naomi had never seen him look so tense. "He didn't even know who I was."

"It's been a long time," Natasha pointed out, but he shook his head.

"He's not himself."

"Let's focus a bit on the task at hand before we get carried away in trying to save some friends," Fury spoke up. "Help me up," he told Natasha, who went to his side and offered her arm. He stood, slowly, and leaned a bit against her for support.

They spent the next hour or so examining lists of names, speaking of the people who were now lost to them. Hydra was bigger than Naomi expected, which made her feel sick, though she tried her best to look as serious as possible. She had to keep her head straight, or she wasn't going to have enough strength to help anyone. Fury explained that Hydra planned to use the Project Insight helicarriers to apply Zola's Algorithm, which was said to be a complicated system to detect future threats and take them out. With the helicarriers' weaponry, this wouldn't be a problem. The three aircrafts would take to the sky and pinpoint all of the targets—millions and millions of people—and kill them all at once. Naomi shuddered at the thought. Annabelle had been working on those helicarriers, she knew. And the thing she'd said about taking out all of the bad made sense with that plan. It was just another thing to support the idea that Annie, her beloved friend, truly was a traitor. She'd tried to watch Steve's face to see if he'd had the same realization, but he'd grown good at hiding his every emotion. Naomi couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, or a combination of several things. Most likely the latter.

"We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own," Fury explained, showing the group three disks that he had stored in a small metal case. "These are your key."

"One or two won't cut it," Maria added. "We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational a whole lot of people are gonna die."

"Great," Naomi murmured.

"We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is Hydra. We need to get past them, insert the server blades, and then maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left," Fury said.

"We're not salvaging anything," Steve snapped, the harshness of his voice startling. "We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We're taking down SHIELD." Naomi couldn't tell what part of this upset her the most: the fact that SHIELD was crumbling, or the fact that Steve was serious enough to call Fury 'Nick.' She spaced out as the two bickered back and forth, her head spinning. What would she do if there was no more SHIELD? Where would she go? She'd fought so hard to get to this place. What else was there for her to do once it was over? She ran her hands over her legs, wiggling her toes for good measure. She'd just have to find something else. Something better than SHIELD. Something less stressful, maybe. Then again, the stress kept her going.

Steve stood and left the room as the conversation ended. From what little Naomi had actually processed, he was now in charge of the operation. It was no surprise to her; Steve was meant to be a leader, and having him in charge of this, something he'd been created to fight all those years ago, seemed like the right choice. Natasha reached over and squeezed her shoulder, pulling her out of her tired thoughts.

"We've got this," she said, though she seemed a little less convincing in her words than usual.

"What if we don't? Naomi asked.

"We do," Fury said, nodding his head once. "Keep your head in the game," he added. She sucked in a deep breath.

"It won't be easy. At all."

"What is?" Natasha asked, smiling faintly.

"Man, sometimes I hate this job," she muttered, though smiled in spite of her words. Regardless of how much trouble it put her through, she would miss SHIELD when it was gone. Gone...she could hardly imagine it.

"Do you think Steve's going to be okay to lead this? You don't think he's too distracted about his friend?" she asked.

"I think he is too distracted. But that distraction will get the job done. It's only given him more fire," Fury answered. She nodded. She knew he was right. Just as her passion about losing Annabelle was fueling her rage for Hydra, Steve's longing to free his best friend must have been fueling his need to get this done and over with. With a drive like that, there was no question that he would do whatever it took to fix this and destroy Hydra.

Naomi dismissed herself and took a walk around the base, this time enjoying the silence of the vast halls. Everything she knew was getting turned upside down. Then again, SHIELD life had been getting repetitive. Maybe this was a good thing.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, surprised to find it still with a sliver of battery life left. Before it could die completely, she quickly typed out a message to her younger sister, letting her know she was okay. She wasn't sure if anything had gone public about the mess at SHIELD, but she was sure her sister would find out some way. She didn't want to worry her. After all, she'd just found her again. She didn't want to let anything sour their new relationship.

Her sister had lived with their mother her entire life, after their parents split. While Naomi and her father had moved more or less 'off the grid,' her mother had settled into the city with her baby sister. April. April didn't remember, but Naomi was old enough to recall that she had once loved her little sister. When she joined SHIELD she used their databases to find her, keep tabs on her from afar. It was only a few years ago, after April had gotten into a freak accident that gave her some telekinetic abilities, that the two girls finally reunited. It had been rough at first, and April denied she had an unknown sister, but as time went on the two grew close. Now they talked almost every day, trying to make up for all that lost time. It still wasn't enough. To Naomi, it would never be enough. But at least it was something.

April didn't respond before Naomi's phone finally puttered out, leaving her with a black screen. She didn't worry, though. The message had made it. April knew she was safe, and that was all that mattered. She'd have to explain when the two got together next, which she hoped would be soon. She needed some good sister time after this mess was over.

"I need a favor," Steve called to her as she passed him, where he was leaning against the edge of the bridge she'd crossed only a few hours earlier. She'd ventured outside to hear the birds, hoping they'd do something to calm her. Instead, she found Steve and Sam.

"Sure, what do you need, show-boy?" she asked.

"Oh, please tell me I can start using that as a nickname for you," Sam said, grinning at Steve.

"I don't think so," Steve said, lightly. "Naomi, I need you to help me break into an exhibit at a museum."

"I have never been so proud of a request in my life," she said.

"Do you have the tools to do it?"

"Please. Of course I can do it. Just tell me when."

"When."


	41. Book II Pt I Ch 14

"Green, stop."

"I can't help it."

"No, seriously, stop it."

"I can't..!

"Annabelle!" Tony's thrusters sputtered and dropped us another few feet before coming back on. I clung to the suit, my eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled. I involuntarily shot another surge of energy through the suit and we lost more altitude, twirling helplessly through the sky for a few seconds before jolting back upward.

"I will drop you," he said.

"Maybe that would be best!"

"Or, you know, you could just stop."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you I'm not doing it on purpose."

Another surge, another several feet closer to the ground, which was still a few hundred feet below us. The snow and cold air made it hard to see nearly anything around us. I hoped the others had made it to the ground safely.

"That's it. You're done."

"Wha—" Tony shoved me away from him, sending me spiraling through the freezing cold. I let out a weak scream, though the air was so chilled and rushing so fast through my lungs that I could barely get anything out.

Warm fingers wrapped around my wrist and I was pulled upwards with a jolt. In a moment, as my body adjusted, I found that I wasn't falling anymore. I was gliding. I looked up to see Natasha, her red hair blowing wildly like fire against the white blizzard. She blinked a few snow crystals out of her eyes as she peered down at me. I could feel the energy welling inside of me as I watched her face, her lips curled in a smile. She was unaware of the danger.

"Need a lift?" she asked. I squirmed, trying to force her fingers off of my wrist. My own were so cold that it was hard to get them to move, but I had to keep trying. If I was 'pulsing' enough to take down Tony's suit, I didn't want to know what I could do to Natasha, a human body.

I sucked in a painfully deep breath and pushed myself away from her as soon as I freed my wrist. She yelled something after me as I plummeted away from her, the cold air once again numbing my senses enough that I couldn't make out her words. My head spun. Holding out my arms, trying to balance myself with the wind, I got myself straight enough to look up at the sky.

The storm above me was beautiful; the snow twisted and weaved together, spinning in small spirals of frigid air. I was falling faster than them, of course, but if I relaxed enough it almost felt as if I myself was a snowflake, drifting. Time seemed to slow. My ears were so cold that I was unaware if anyone was calling for me, and I couldn't see through the thick white to see if there was anyone nearby. I felt my body pulse, but it was far more comfortable now that I knew I wasn't affecting anyone. _Pulse._ The snow danced along my skin as I passed it, the cold wind caressing me. _Pulse._ The electricity inside of me wasn't painful, not really. I felt like I was waking up, like the pulses were the hesitant blinking of tired eyes coming out of slumber. _Pulse._ I couldn't locate where the sun was above me, the clouds so thick and so filled with moisture that they blotted everything out. If I focused enough, I—

I hit the ground. The packed snow managed to somewhat buffet my fall, but not enough. My breath was sharply forced out of me as I collided, falling through layers and layers of packed snow, all of which started folding over my face as I went down. Eventually, the snow was enough to stop my momentum.

Sputtering, I spit the icy crystals out of my mouth, trying to shut it before more piled in. I flinched as my body released yet another surge of energy, the snow around me lighting up in a cool blue light. My back ached. I couldn't see anything but snow, the thick, fallen layers pushing down on my chest painfully.

I felt Natasha running towards me, saw that bright light within her as she came to stand nearby where I'd fallen, Clint behind her. It was funny seeing his energy now, after I'd already become familiar with his face. The others had been so naturally identified by the lights that hung around them, but Clint I'd had to identify differently because of the momentary loss of power. It was like finally noticing a trait of someone's that you never had before.

An arm came through the snow and grasped my wrist, tugging me up. The snow was so heavy that my arm pulled in my socket, but eventually I was freed. The chilled wind hit my snow covered face. Hard.

"You look like a yeti," Clint snorted.

"Clint," Natasha scolded, though she looked somewhat amused. Then, turning to me: "Are you alright, Annabelle? That fall could have easily killed you."

"I'm fine," I said slowly, wiping some snow off my face. I'd forgotten that Clint and Natasha weren't present when we'd discovered my ability to take falls earlier. If they'd have seen the hole I created outside of Stark tower, they wouldn't have been concerned.

I put a hand to my hair and found it packed with thick snow, though I could hardly feel the snow itself with my frozen fingers.

"That's crazy. You're crazy. I saw you falling and was sure you were a gonner," Clint said.

"Yes, well," I muttered.

I stretched my back, hearing a few pops.

"You're really something," Natasha said. A small, softer smile lined her lips. They were pink and bright, standing out against her skin almost as much as her hair stood out against the snow. Both her and Clint's noses were red and wind beaten. I wondered if I looked the same; or maybe I looked worse.

"Everyone okay?" Steve asked, joining the group, panting, his breath fogging up all around his face. My renewed energy-vision—or whatever it actually was—showed me his bright, warm aura. If it wasn't so cold out already, my cheeks would have flushed with endearment.

"Annabelle took a fall, but she's fine," Clint explained, gesturing to me to make his point.

"Yeah, but she's really cold. Could get hypothermia. Better warm her up quick," Natasha joked. She shot me a look, a playful, sort of suggestive look, and I realized what she was doing. Was my affection that obvious? I stammered as Steve stepped forward, his face serious. Yes, of course my affection was obvious; I acted like a smitten teenager around him, and Natasha must have already picked up on it. But it wasn't my fault. I couldn't control the twisting in my stomach, nor logically explain why it was happened. _You're already completely devoted to him,_ I thought. An uncomfortable lump formed in my throat.

"Up we go," Steve said, reaching down and pulling me up. He tucked me into his massive frame, his warmth engulfing me, my heart throbbing against my chest. My face was so hot it should have been steaming in this cold.

"Banner's loose."

Tony flew down, hovering above them. I tried to get a look at him over Steve's arm, but it was no use. I guess I didn't want to see his facial expression anyway. He'd probably enjoy this scene—and my embarrassment—far more than he should have. I tucked my hands up in between Steve and I, balling them together to try to warm them.

"Need you to go grab him, Natasha," Tony spoke up again.

"Roger," she said, sprinting away. I tracked the light of her energy until she was out of my range, hoping that Bruce, wherever he ended up, wasn't too far. And I hoped that he was alright.

"Capsicle, you can cop a feel later. Base is this way," Tony said. His feet crunched against the snow, the steps getting farther away.

"Mature," Steve mumbled, suddenly and carefully swooping me up over his shoulder to transport me. A strange sound escaped my lips and I held tight to what little I could grab of his suit. My heart was still pounding. That was a relief at least. That was better than it not beating at all. Still, surely Steve could feel it, and that was embarrassing. Maybe I could play it off as an adrenaline rush from the fall. Actually, it probably was partially that.

"On we go," Clint said from behind Steve, watching me with an amused look in his eyes. Was he in on this too? I narrowed my eyes at him but didn't say a word, focusing on rubbing my hands together as soon as I felt Steve held me securely enough that I wasn't going to dive back into the snow.

We walked for what I guessed to be about a half an hour before we got to a single small pillar sticking out of the ground, an entire side of it covered in snow. Steve had set me down a few minutes earlier, after I informed him that my legs were falling asleep, and I trudged forward through the snow to get a closer look at it.

"Woah," I said quietly, staring. With my abilities back it was easy for me to see that there was an entire building underneath the snow, all connected to the pillar and buzzing with electric energy. Just like the tower, this energy twisted and connected, weaving in and out in colorful bursts. Whatever was under the snow, it was pretty sufficiently powered. It was enough for me to see that the structure itself was large, and it may have been even larger if there were parts of it that weren't powered.

I placed my hand on the pillar, then quickly removed it when I realized what capability I had. I couldn't power this down like Stark Tower. If I did, we were out of luck out here in the cold. Annabelle Green being the demise of the entire Avengers team didn't seem like a great news header.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Tony asked, landing beside me and kicking up a flood of water as the snow melted under his thrusters.

"It's amazing," I admitted.

"It's a pillar," Steve said, holding the front of his belt, eyebrow raised. Tony made a strange and obnoxious sound in response.

"How much of it can you see, Green?"

He nudged me, the armor freezing cold.

"Just the electricity," I said. "Seems like a large structure."

"Of course. I like to hide out in style," he responded coolly.

He stepped forward and placed his armored hand against the flat top of the pillar. Something in the energy underneath shifted, and for a moment tiny bands of light seemed to slither out of the pillar and caress the metal.

"Any news from Natasha yet on the Bruce situation?" Tony asked, as I watched the motion of the lights, mesmerized. It was scanning his suit, making sure that he was the one allowed to enter whatever lay below.

"Not yet." Clint said. "I'm sure she's got it under control."

"I'll go check on her as soon as I get you guys inside."

Tony moved to the side, the ground shaking for a moment as the pillar sunk down into the snow. A stone platform rose from under our feet, my balance faltering as it lifted us up, shifting our positions. Steve grabbed my arm to steady me. I was still so cold that I could hardly feel his fingers over the fabric of my shirt.

"Going down," Tony said.

The platform shook and descended, packed snow falling around us as it moved. We were pretty far down—the white sky above was nothing but a tiny dot, like looking through a keyhole—when it came to a halt, a large corridor opening up at the side. Snow curled around our feet, starting to evaporate from the rush of warm air that came from the hall. It stung as it hit my chilled skin, but I took several steps into it anyway. Warm, soothing air brushed my cheeks.

Something spiked, a large burst of light that I was sure wasn't visible to anyone but me. I tilted my head up and looked up at what little I could see of the sky, squinting my eyes. The light only got brighter as it approached. In a moment, I recognized it.

"Thor is coming," I said.

"What? If he thinks he's—"

Tony was cut off as Thor crashed down beside him, hammer in hand, his hair covered in snow.

"Did you just jump from all the way up there?" Clint asked, looking as baffled as he had when he'd pulled me out of the snow earlier.

"Yes," Thor said plainly.

"I'm surrounded by lunatics who can take deadly falls like it's no problem. How did I get myself here? Why did I do it? I need to retire," Clint mumbled on, stepping off the platform and heading down the hall. The others followed, and me behind them.

"Are Bruce and Natasha going to be alright?" I asked as I caught up with Tony. His suit was retracting, little mechanical hands snaking out of the walls to grab the pieces as he unequipped them. They were all lined with lights. Everything was so much brighter now. Had it been this bright before?

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll be fine. Natasha knows what she's doing. She'll calm him down and get him back here before he freezes. Hopefully."

"Maybe you should go check now."

I looked at him with concern, worried for the two of them. After all, without the Hulk, Bruce was only human. And from what I could tell, Natasha was pretty human as well. The temperatures out there would get to them much quicker than someone like Steve, or Tony in his suit. Losing two of the team didn't seem beneficial right now. Besides, my fondness for Bruce was no secret. I didn't want to think about him freezing out there in the cold.

"Give me a minute, I'll go," he said, pushing a panel on the side wall as we approached. The wall slid down and he herded us into the hall beyond it, letting the door shut behind him. It was getting warmer and warmer the deeper we got into the building, water dripping down my scalp as my hair defrosted.

"Just walk a little farther and you'll hit the main room. There's clothes and showers here if anyone needs that taken care of. I'll go check on the other two so Annabelle will stop whining," Tony said, taking a step back.

"I'm not—" Before I could finish he was gone, already sealing the wall behind us shut. I sighed.

"Let's get you inside," Steve said, putting a hand to my back to push me forward. I nodded my head once and followed as they walked on.

"Banner will not like being so far underground," Thor mused, looking up at the high ceiling.

"He'll be fine," I said. I stuffed my hands deep in my pockets, trying not to think of what it would be like to have the Hulk make an appearance while we were all trapped in here. More importantly, I didn't want Bruce to have to deal with those repercussions. Still, I believed in his ability to keep calm. He really would be fine; I wasn't worried.

My hand brushed against the pyramid-like object in my pocket, which I'd already forgotten about in all this upset. Kathrine...there was a warmness that welled up inside of me when I thought of her, like a fondness for an old friend. Was she? Had I forgotten her. I pinched the tip of the object and took a deep breath. Maybe this had all the answers.

"It's nice that you trust him so much after only knowing him for such little time," Steve said, looking over his shoulder at me. "Usually people aren't like that."

"I guess I understand him. I know how terrifying it is to not have control of yourself. It isn't his fault," I said, on the quieter side. I rubbed my thumb along the metal edge, tracing it until the tip of the pyramid poked my finger.

"Here we are. Ridiculous as I expected," Clint said with a whistle. I lost my focus on the object and looked around at my new surroundings. I'd been walking on autopilot down the hall, my body too chilled and my mind too preoccupied to really take anything in. Now that I was here, though, I saw the full glory of Tony's bunker.

The room we ended up in was filled with warm colors, a great contrast to the cold world above us, paintings lining the walls and a large TV hanging above a marble fireplace. There were couches cuddled in front of it, and a medium sized kitchen off to the side. Right now I wanted nothing more than to collapse onto one of those couches, but I knew I had to dry off before I did anything. Hopefully Tony and the others would make it back soon so that I could be shown to wherever an available room was for me to change. Not that I had clothes to change into. I could only hope that Tony had some clothes stored away to dress everyone, and I hoped that whatever he had for me was not spandex and two sizes too small. _Wouldn't he just love that._

"Not bad," Thor said from behind me. That brilliant glow of his energy radiated more intensely than the others, hanging off of him like a golden veil. I wondered if it was because he was Asgardian; what did that say about people outside of Earth? Were they brighter simply because they weren't from here? Or were humans that much weaker? No, surely the lights didn't indicate strength; it was more like...personality. Identity. I couldn't put my finger on it. There was so much emotion in these lights that hung around and pooled inside of everyone, and I found that even in my thoughts I couldn't put appropriate words to it.

"Don't stare off into space too long. We might lose you," Clint joked, slapping me lightly on the shoulder. I focused my eyes back on the room, trying to observe just the physical. There was so much to unpack with the abilities; maybe one day I would have time to figure them out. But not now. I was glad I could shift my attention off of them.

"I don't blame you. It is preeeetty nice in here," Clint continued, mistaking my wandering mind for awe at the room. He wandered off to explore it on his own, leaving the three of us remaining behind.

Thor set his hammer on an end table and headed for the kitchen. Steve and I stood at the entrance. I didn't want to move, didn't want to touch anything here and mess it up like I had with the tower. My emotions needed to be kept in check and my body needed to equalize, normalize, settle back into the abilities that had been so forcefully taken and abruptly returned. Still, it was a good sign that I was already readjusting to them. I tried not to get distracted by Steve's sidelong look, his eyes on my face, the light of his aura lined with curiosity. Yes, these were definitely auras. They were expressions of the people they operated within—pure expressions. I don't know why realizing that made me feel all the more embarrassed at Steve's gaze. I turned my head away.


	42. Book II Pt I Ch 15

**Annabelle**

I woke up with a raging headache. Every part of my body tingled as I came to, trying to grasp where I was. It took a significant amount of energy to get my eyes open, and even then everything seemed a blur. My abilities felt lulled, like all of the surrounding energy was melting together. I didn't even realize there was someone next to me until he spoke.

"So, you're not going to kill me, right? We're cool?" I blinked a few times, trying and failing to get the fog out of my eyes before turning my head in the direction of the voice.

"What?" I asked, my own voice coming out hoarse. "No...of course not. Who are you?"

"My name is Sam. Sam Wilson. Friend of Steve Rogers. I mean, unless you're still out for his blood, in which case you can forget I said that."

"Out for his blood?" I brought a hand up and squeezed the bridge of my nose, my headache growing steadily worse. What had I done? The last thing I remembered was Kathrine, staring into my soul with those vast eyes, and Andon—

Grief swelled inside my chest. Andon was gone. They'd killed him...to control me. Thinking about it made my stomach turn. He'd been so sweet to me, there when I needed him. I hadn't known him for long, but it was enough. Only now was I able to think about him clearly, how important he'd really been to me. Why hadn't I seen that before? I'd been blind. No, not blind. Swayed. Kathrine had convinced me subliminally to focus only on Steve. If she hadn't been there in my head, would Andon have been something more? I squeezed my eyes shut. Was everything I knew a lie?

"Hey, okay, you don't look so hot. Cap got you pretty hard on the head. I'm surprised you're awake at all," Sam said. I tried to pull my thoughts to the present.

"Did I hurt anyone?"

"Well, you kind of hurt my pride, swinging me around like nobody's business. But other than that, everyone's good." He leaned over and handed me a plastic cup. "I brought you some water."

"...thanks." I took it from him and drank it down as fast as I could, surprised by how thirsty I really was. I had to wonder how long I'd been out...or how long I'd been under Kathrine's control.

"We might have to move pretty quick. Some stuff is going down."

"What's happening?"

"Hydra sent out their flying death machines to kill most of humanity. Cap's working on getting the last one deactivated now. Your superiors didn't fill you in?"

"Hydra…" I took in a sharp breath. Of course. Hydra was the root of all of this. I'd known that, hadn't I? The symbols were all over my father's house, plastered on doors and books and documents. I'd always known. Hadn't I? Yet, I couldn't have possibly known, because I never said anything about it. The memory of Hydra in my life was so clear to me now, but it hadn't been before. Once again, my head reeled.

It took me a few moments to fully realize what Sam had said.

"They aren't my superiors," I said quickly. "All I remember is Kathrine and my father. After that, everything is black." I chose to leave out the part about Andon, thinking I'd probably lose it before I was able to articulate what I'd seen. I couldn't get bogged down in grieving him now; that would have to come later.

"Kobra did confirm that Kathrine is Hydra. That's why Cap had me come back for you. The way you acted earlier, we were definitely ready to admit you were on their side."

"Kobra...Naomi is here? Isn't she on leave for her legs?" I still didn't know the details behind that, and she hadn't seemed injured the last time I'd seen her, but I still didn't want her to risk anything. Knowing Naomi, though, she'd gladly take any risk.

"We lost contact with her after she confirmed Kathrine. We think her communicator slipped out, most likely due to combat."

"I have to go get her." I quickly adjusted, ready to pull myself up off the ground, but was met with a wave of nausea. My vision spun.

"Woah, hold on. Give yourself a minute. Like I said, Cap hit you hard," Sam said.

"I deserved it, I'm sure." I tried to think back to what I'd done, some indication that I was still in there somewhere when Kathrine was controlling me. Then again, wouldn't it be easier if I hadn't been aware at all?

"I'll be up and ready to go in ten minutes. Just give me something to do, anything, and I'll do it," I said after a moment.

"Don't push yourself. We wouldn't want to lose you in all of this because you won't take a break."

"You won't lose me," I said, feeling oddly confident. After all I'd been through recently, I was starting to think I'd never stay down. That was probably a good thing. Probably.

"I—" he stopped before he could speak, bringing a hand up to his ear. It took me a moment to realize it was a communicator.

"Yeah?" He paused, waiting for the person on the other end to finish speaking. I wondered if it was Steve. Steve...was everything I'd ever experienced with him just one of Kathrine's tricks?

"I'm on it," Sam said, quickly rising. He looked down at me. "I've got to go take care of something. You good?"

"Yeah," I said, lightly touching my fingers to my head. Dry blood was caked in my thick hair, but from what I could feel the wound had already healed up. "I'm good."

"This'll all be over soon." He ran off down the hall, leaving me against the wall alone. I didn't even have a chance to ask him where he was going. I let my eyes fall shut and surveyed the area as best I could with my abilities. Even though things were still contorted and strange, I could at least make out individual energy signatures and who they belonged to. There were still a lot of people in the building, frantic, stressed, and some...relieved. Those were the Hydra members. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like for them, suddenly able to expose themselves, destroying every relationship they'd ever made with true SHIELD agents. This was one big mess. How in the world were Steve and the others planning to fix this one? They didn't have Fury anymore to lead them. My heart clenched at this thought. How many good people had died already today? And, how many of those people had I personally crossed off while under Kathrine's control?

I spotted Naomi's energy several floors away, which gave me enough willpower to stand myself up. At first I was dizzy, the narrow hall spinning around me, but after a few deep breaths I was able to see clearly. I set off towards the stairs, surprised by my own speed. In a matter of minutes I was on Naomi's floor, desperately scanning the rooms to find her. Her energy was weak, faded, and that scared me more than I could say. I felt Kathrine somewhere nearby and immediately anger spread through my body. I almost went after her, fueled by my rage, but convinced myself otherwise. If I came face to face with her now, weak and emotional, she'd probably take over my mind again and make me do terrible things. I couldn't risk it. Who knew if another hit to the head would cure me again.

Something exploded outside, my ears ringing from the boom almost immediately. I flashed my eyes to one of the windows lining the hall, catching a blinding flash of light. Blinking furiously, I tried to see more clearly what had happened. When my eyes cleared, I realized I only had a few moments to move. Just outside, plummeting at a rapid rate, was one of the Project Insight helicarriers. One of _my_ helicarriers. I'd spent hours on those designs, put my entire heart into them, and here they were, shedding parts as fire consumed them. Had someone hit them? What went wrong?

I thought back to what Sam had said. 'Flying death machines.' 'Hydra.' So I really had been working with them all along. But, so had Andon. Had he been..?

I couldn't think about it. I didn't have the time. Whatever had happened, whoever had brought the machines down, had done it in a way that one of them was now threatening to collide with the building. And I was in a prime spot to get hit.

I leaped into the room where Naomi was, hardly even looking at her as I scooped her off of the floor. She was soaked in blood, slippery, wet, and generally hard to get a hold on, but I somehow managed. She was bigger than me, but my adrenaline was running too fast for me to notice. I hoisted her over my shoulder and left the room, sliding around the corner of the hall. The floor shook. The most horrifying sounds of metal twisting and concrete crumbling echoed from behind me as my steps became uneven, the shaking making it difficult for me to make it to the end of the hall. But where would I go from there? A large piece of the ceiling nearly flattened me, but I moved quick enough to duck under it before it could. At this point my feet were hardly even making contact with the floor, my body propelling itself forward, my abilities filling me with an insane amount of energy. I felt like I might explode. Yet, the feeling was also exhilarating, like I'd released something from within me that had been dormant for a long time.

I didn't have time to turn as I got to the window. I crashed through it and out into the open air, swinging my hand out in an attempt to grab the ledge so that I wouldn't fall. The ledge crumbled, however, and there was no chance of me getting a grip on it. I tried to reach for anything, the wind whipping my hair into my face, my heart racing. But I wasn't worried for myself; I was worried for Naomi. I held her tight and used my foot to push us away from the building, where we spiraled out into the open. I'd fallen a lot of times recently, usually from high places, but this was by far the scariest. From where I was now I could see the Triskelion, one of the three towers crumbling under the impact of the helicarrier, which was aflame and lodging itself deeper and deeper into the walls. SHIELD was falling. Everything I thought I knew was going down with it. I clung to Naomi's limp body, my breath catching. Where could I go from here? Where could anyone?

We hit the water. Hard. I should have been prepared for it, but it caught me so off guard that I inhaled several painful gulps before managing to surface. I took care in keeping Naomi's head above the water as I swam to the shore, though at that point I already knew it was pointless. A helicopter soared overhead, the sound of the beating blades ringing in my head. The climb onto the bridge was agonizing, my body surging with pain, but I made it. I'd come out in a grassy area, to my relief, and practically collapsed as soon as I knew there wasn't a threat of me falling back in the water. The air reeked of smoke. I could hear sirens, at least a dozen of them, all trying to make it to the Triskelion in an attempt to remedy a situation that couldn't be remedied. What could they do at this point? The fire would consume the building. And, even if it didn't, the damage was enough to render it unusable. I wondered if they'd rebuild it.

I forced myself to sit up, propping up Naomi beside me, my arm tight around her shoulders. Her skin was cool, dripping with icy water, but devoid of any sign of goosebumps. I rubbed my fingers against her arm, as if this would make a difference.

I'd known she was dead when I picked her up off the floor to run.

I stroked her hair, which was ratted and sticking out in all directions after all that had happened. The water had at least washed much of the blood off of her clothes. I was starting to lose my grip on her, as my body quivered and shook. I could hardly feel my own hands. Still, I continued stroking her arm, as if this simple gesture would bring her back. I was smarter than that. I wished I wasn't. Tears stung in my eyes, a combination of the saltwater and smoke. I didn't want to admit they were tears of pain, or tears of sadness. I couldn't give in to any of that now. Rocking Naomi, her body swaying back and forth like a ragdoll, I kept my face as straight as possible. I was sure several people, innocent people who'd gotten caught watching the explosion, knelt down to ask me if I needed help. I couldn't answer them. I could barely acknowledge their presence. In this moment of time it was just Naomi and I, sitting on the grass, out in the sunshine. Even as the sun became eclipsed with smoke, I held onto this. _Looks like it's going to rain, Naomi_ , I thought, holding her tighter. My tears were uncontrollable. I could hear someone sobbing, though I couldn't be one hundred percent sure it was me. It had to be, though, didn't it? _Rain is great. It can't ruin our good time, hm, Ann_ _ie_ _? Come on now, don't be sad_ , I thought again, imagining Naomi's voice as best I could. I looked over at her, her eyes gently closed. She looked peaceful.

I wondered if she still had her nails painted.

Someone plopped down next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. Their body was stunningly warm in comparison to Naomi's, which surprised me enough to get me out of my imagination. I lifted my eyes, met with fiery red hair that I knew could only belong to one person. She was speaking to me softly, though I couldn't understand her. My head buzzed. Whoever was sobbing had fallen into quiet whines. My mouth tasted like salt and blood. My heart constricted.

"Everything is gone," I said, my voice sounding detached. I hardly realized I'd said it.

"Not everything," Natasha responded, her words still soft. "Not everything."

She didn't understand. She couldn't. But I nodded anyway, letting her wrap her arms around my head. For the first time in a long time, I suddenly felt safe. No more voices. No more lies. No more secrets. Just Natasha, her fiery hair falling around my face, her body warm and gentle.

I didn't let go of Naomi. I'd never let go.


	43. Book II Pt I Ch 16

_May_

The cool breeze swept through my curls, brushing lightly against my cheek as it passed. Underneath me the earth felt warm and solid, pure, teaming with all kinds of life that even I couldn't detect. As I ran my hand across the grass I caught hold of a ladybug, her legs clinging to the skin of my finger. I lifted her up to my eye level.

"Your energy is so small," I said to her, in German, tilting my head to the side to get a better angle as she moved across my skin. It seemed incredible that something so tiny could contain such a bright soul. Ordinarily I blocked these small energies out. It was a good thing, too. I couldn't imagine how overwhelmed I'd be if I could constantly sense every living thing around me. I'd go crazy far faster. But, if I did focus in enough, I could see some of the ones I ordinarily blocked out. This little ladybug shone with her own light, her own personality hidden underneath those spotted wings. It was sad, if I thought about it too much. To many humans, she'd be nothing but a worthless bug. But she was so much more. If only people could see.

"Talking to yourself? I told you, you're not that crazy yet." Tony's voice startled me, seeming to come from nowhere. An extra burst of wind rustled the back of my hair, and the ladybug flew off. I waited until I lost sight of her before turning around. Behind me stood one of Tony's suits, metal gleaming in the late afternoon sun. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes and examined it. This one was new, built just slightly differently from what I was used to seeing him in. It was painted silver and black. Apparently he'd been building new concept suits after Pepper had asked him to destroy all of his others. At least, that's how he'd explained it.

"You've no right to judge how crazy I am," I responded, leaning back and pressing my hands against the softness of the grass.

"Please, I have every right." He crouched down, sitting before me. "I picked you a flower." He held out a small daisy, which had nearly lost all of its petals. I shook my head, but took it anyway.

"Thanks." I looked down at it and twirled the stem between my fingers.

"Like the color scheme of the new suit? Look, blue." He turned the arm of the suit, a set of electric blue panels lining the backside. "Just for you."

"How flattering." It was hard for me to talk to him like this, so disconnected, so disappointing. Because as much as I tried to pretend otherwise, Tony was not in this suit. He was only using it as a communication device. It was empty. Hollow. Just as every conversation I had with it was going to be.

"Are you liking it here? The weather treating you well?"

"It's a beautiful place," I said, looking around the area. I wasn't exactly sure where 'here' was, but Tony had dropped me here after the Hydra attack to keep me safe. I was too smart to think that was the only reason. Natasha had released a lot of files, some of them exposing my father's allegiance to Hydra, and, in turn, mine as well. It also released the fact that I had killed Seth Hughes, the man from my father's party six years ago. People were trying to come after me for that, but there had been enough for me to plead self defense. Still, that new information didn't paint me in a positive light. People didn't trust me. They thought I was dangerous. I couldn't disagree with them. I think Tony had hoped that by bringing me here, a secluded place in the middle of nowhere covered in flowering fields and glimmering ponds, I'd calm myself down and get control over myself. He didn't realize how lost I was. How was I supposed to control myself, or even make myself feel semi-normal, when I didn't even know what in my life had been real?

I'd missed Naomi's funeral. It was decided that it would be too much for me, given my unpredictable reactions with grief in the past. I knew better than to put up a fight, but missing it had hurt. A lot. As soon as Tony had flown me here and left me alone the first night, I couldn't stop crying. The property I had been left on was heavily monitored with cameras, but I easily deactivated them that night. I didn't want anyone to see my pain. That night I cried for Naomi. I cried for Andon. I cried for my mother, who didn't deserve to die so young, and I cried for my father, who had been locked up in prison after he was exposed as Hydra. I cried because he deserved it, and it had been such a long time coming. I cried because I deserved the same, and yet I was here. Then, I cried for everything else.

I reactivated the cameras the next morning, but the down time was enough to catch Tony's attention. That was the first time he'd flown a suit here to talk to me long distance, asking what had happened. I'd told him I released a lot of energy, and was finally able to relax. I told him he wouldn't experience the problem again. He seemed to buy it. From then on he sent a suit to visit me nearly weekly to get updates on how I was doing, and try to work out when I could come home. He said 'home' as if I truly deserved my luxurious room at the tower. As if I belonged there. It almost made me feel worse.

"You're awful quiet today," Tony spoke up, holding out another daisy to me. I was sure he was just picking them right from the field, yet he was presenting them like thoughtful gifts.

"You shouldn't pick the flowers. You're killing them," I said, taking the next one as he handed it to me.

"There's plenty of them to go around."

"Tony, please." He stayed silent for a moment.

"Alright. I'm sorry." I held tight to the two he had picked, watching the petals blow in the wind.

"I just don't want to kill something that doesn't need to be killed."

"I know. I know, I'm sorry." A silence fell between us. I could hear the birds chirping in the distance, where the meadow cut off into a large clump of trees. I saw that as a sort of barrier, something to scare me away from leaving the safe house. Little did they know, I was greatly considering making my way through any forest just to get out of here.

"She left you this, by the way," Tony said suddenly. When I lifted my head to look at him he had a metal hand outstretched, a small hologram projected from the center. I moved closer to inspect it, realizing it had letters sloppily scrawled across it.

 _I forgive you, Annie._

 _-Naomi_

I nearly reached to snatch it from the suit's hand, though I stopped myself in time to remember that it was only a hologram.

"I'll keep it safe for you until you get home," he said, seemingly sensing my agitation. The hologram disappeared. A lump rose in my throat, but I refused to cry here. Instead, I kept my face straight and serious, which was easy to do when I was talking to a robot.

"Did I hurt her?" I asked.

"I don't know any details. But even if you did, she obviously really wanted you to know that it's okay, and that she understood. She wouldn't want you to worry over it." I pulled my lips into a tight line, trying to keep my emotions in check. Even in death Naomi was trying to keep me from worrying. Of course she was.

"...how was the funeral?" I focused my eyes on the daisies, spinning them between my fingers once again.

"Like most funerals are," he answered. I lifted my eyes to the mask of the suit, hoping he'd elaborate. He was quiet for a moment.

"It was sad," he continued, "but people got up and told stories about her. We shared some laughs. It's how she would have wanted it." His voice was uncharacteristically soft, which made my heart clench. I wanted him here in the flesh. I wanted us to grieve together. But, maybe they were right. Maybe the emotions would be too much for me after all.

"Did you?" I asked, wishing I'd been there to hear all of the ridiculous memories of Naomi.

"Did I what?"

"Tell stories." I shifted my eyes back to the flowers.

"Yeah. I told a few. Tried to lighten the mood, you know," he said. I nodded in response, debating asking him to tell me what exactly he'd said. However, I wasn't sure I could handle it.

"I'm going to put them inside," I said, standing and holding up the flowers slightly. The suit stood as well, and followed me as I headed to the small cottage near the edge of the field. It looked rustic on the outside, like it had been sitting there for a very long time. Inside, however, it was entirely modern, designed by Tony himself. Apparently when Natasha had released the files, she took extra care in keeping a few of the locations to the secret SHIELD bunkers safe, including this one. Tony had revamped it to his liking as soon as they decided I should move in.

I made my way to the kitchen and filled a small glass with water, setting it in the windowsill. Gently, I submerged the daisy stems into the water and adjusted them accordingly.

"Cap asked about you," Tony said, the suit still behind me. I kept my focus on the flowers, pretending that the mere mention of Steve didn't set me on edge.

"That's nice," I responded, adjusting the petals again. I hadn't truly spoken to Steve since I'd kissed him at the Triskelion, before everything crumbled. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was scared to see him, scared to see how he looked now that I was out of Kathrine's control. Not to mention I was embarrassed. That was the least of my worries, however. Really, I just hadn't been able to come to terms with the fact that I'd been manipulated into a weapon exclusively to take him down. How could I explain that to him?

"He wants to see you. Of course, we can't exactly do that. But he could talk to you. I could wire a suit to him and send it your way, so at least you could have a conversation. A little company besides me. Not that you'd need more company, because I'm great."

"I'm fine. I don't need to talk to anyone else," I said.

"I'm flattered."

"You should be." I leaned my back against the counter, sneaking a peek at the suit before letting my eyes drift elsewhere. I hated this way of communication.

"I don't know what happened between you two, but I'm sure it can be worked out. He doesn't seem to think anything is wrong," he continued after a moment of silence. I clenched my jaw.

"That's exactly the problem," I said.

"Why? Did he do something to piss you off? Is it one of those 'I'm mad at him but I won't tell him I'm mad because he should just know what I'm thinking and he needs to apologize on his own' things? Because Green, I hate to tell you, but that's pretty stupid."

"It isn't like that." I turned away from the suit again, irritated.

"Then what is it?"

"Everything Kathrine planted in my brain about him was so that one day I could befriend him and then tear him apart when I was given the command. According to Sam, I actually did end up fighting him. He should be mad, or at least a little upset at me. But he isn't. I just don't understand." I finished and took a deep breath, not realizing that I hadn't stopped much during my rant to breathe. Flustered, I got myself another glass and filled it with water for myself, taking a big gulp.

"Why in the world would he be mad at you for that? It wasn't your fault. You were under Kathrine's influence. Nothing you did against him was your own free will, even if it felt like it was." The suit's hand clapped down on my shoulder, which was meant to be comforting, but it only set me more on edge. The cold metal against my skin, the disconnected feeling of talking to someone without them really being there...it was too much. I jerked away from the hand and distanced myself from the suit.

"Maybe I want him to be mad at me. Maybe that would make things easier. It would give me some feeling of responsibility for my actions. Or make me feel like maybe I was in there somewhere, and deserve to be yelled at." I took another big drink of water, trying to calm my nerves. I wasn't sure why this still affected me so badly after I'd had time to think about it. I supposed stewing about it alone wasn't doing me any good.

"You don't need to take responsibility for those actions. They weren't yours. They were Kathrine's."

"Yes, carried out through me. I'm just so confused. I don't know what to feel, or if I should feel anything at all, or..." I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a few minutes. Tony stayed quiet. Outside, a few birds chirped, their voices carrying through the air like a light song. The breeze drifted through the window. The smell of lush trees and grass was always strong here. Exhaling, I opened my eyes and dumped my remaining water back into the sink. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Annabelle." I froze. The voice coming from the suit no longer belonged to Tony, but to Steve. "Please," he spoke again, "talk to me. Just tell me what you're thinking." I couldn't move. So that's why Tony had been so quiet. He'd gone and gotten Steve, despite my protests to it. I wasn't sure whether to feel mad or grateful. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed Steve's voice. But I couldn't judge my emotions like this. Because Steve wasn't really here, because I couldn't feel his presence, I was just as confused as ever to hear from him. I couldn't gauge what I was feeling. Not in this disconnected way, at least.

"I know you're scared after everything that happened. I don't know how much you remember of what you had to do under Kathrine's control, but I'm sure either way, whether you remember or you don't, you're hurting. You shouldn't be here alone. I unfortunately don't have a say in that. I wish I did." My hands shook as he spoke, and I tried to grip the edge of the counter to keep him from seeing. I wasn't sure how sharp the vision of the suit was, but I could only assume it was top notch technology.

"You're not dangerous, Annabelle. I know you think you are, and some people around here think so too, but I don't," he continued, his voice sending a panic through me. Every word he said made me feel more conflicted. "They treated you so badly...they sent you after us to die. You were so tired. I could see you were so tired. I don't want you to be tired anymore. You deserve so much better." I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn't get any words out. I felt broken and scared, just as I had when I was with my father for all those years. I was alone. But, this time, I didn't have to obey and keep quiet. No matter how hard they tried to keep me somewhere, out of sight, out of mind, I would fight back. This time I had a choice.

I turned and approached the suit, which was standing behind quietly. Staring at it like this, it was easy to forget Steve's voice had come out of it just moments ago. Thankfully, he didn't speak again. If he had, I wasn't sure I would have been able to go through with what I was about to do. I set my hand on the chest of the suit. The hand raised, placing itself gently on my shoulder as I stared at it, heart beating hard in my chest. This gesture, Steve's gesture, was what completely convinced me of what I had to do. I let myself relax and allowed my second vision to take control, the power running through the suit lighting up before me. It was easy for me to pull the suit open. I watched it unfold, following my silent command, exposing the empty interior. After hearing a sound of protest, I made sure to cut the communication line. No more Tony trying to make conversation with me through an empty shell. No more Steve. I turned and let myself fall back into the suit, the metal wrapping itself around me as soon as I was in. The system sparked to life. I was able to see now that the vision inside the suit was in fact very clear, as I'd expected. I wondered if Steve truly was able to see how badly I'd been shaking.

But, it didn't matter thinking about it now. He was gone. The suit no longer held a connection to either of them; it was just me now. It only took a moment for me to get myself acquainted with the mechanics, and then I was in the air, suddenly flying out above the cabin. I'd left a sizable hole in the roof of the safe house, which I'd feel bad about later. For now, I had to clear my mind and assume control of the suit as best I could. Tony would surely cut off his own power to it once he'd been alerted to me taking it. When that happened, I'd have full power over the suit. And, with that power, the ability to keep myself hidden. No one could track the suit as long as I was in it, I'd make sure of that.

I shot off through the sky, away from the seclusion of the safe house. There was something extremely freeing about flying in the suit—I saw why Tony didn't want to give it up. The way the clouds rolled around me, the complete control of where I was going, the ground rushing past below me...it was all almost like a dream. But I couldn't let myself get foggy eyed over the beauty and the freedom of it. I had a mission.

I was going to find Kathrine.


	44. BOOK II Pt II Ch 1

_Avenger's Tower, May 2015_

I spread my hands across the surface of the table, a map materializing under my fingertips as I dragged them. Coordinates popped up in the corner. Several dots lined the surface. Scanning over everything, I finally rested on a somewhat mountainous location, creating a small coordinate point in the dead center of a forested area.

"Here," I said. I tapped my fingertips against it again for good measure. Tony Stark, who stood across the counter from me, examined the map before looking up and meeting my eyes.

"Consider it done," he said. "I'll send the drones tomorrow morning." His aura glimmered subtly, warmly.

"Remember to be discreet about it. I don't want anything tipping her off if she's there." I gave him a look, hoping he'd know how serious I was. He nodded in response, his expression straight.

"I will be."

With a swish of my wrist, the projected map lifted from the table and minimized, converting into a small, complex hologram that, by some miraculous feat of technology, Tony was able to grab onto. He took it to the large computer monitor at the other side of the room to program the location in. The target, who I hoped truly was in that specific area, was none other than Kathrine Zindel, my ex-case worker who had controlled me subliminally for years to benefit Hydra and my father. I'd been searching for her for a year already, but even with my abilities I couldn't seem to track her. I'd spent several months searching alone, using Tony's suit to transport me, but eventually I had to return. I reactivated the suit's communication systems in December, after more than six months of being offline. I'd expected Tony to be angry with me for hijacking the suit, but if he was, he didn't show it. He'd sounded relieved to hear my voice. It seems I'd forgotten he was my friend, and not just another person out to control me. My trust issues had only gotten worse after I found out what Kathrine had been doing to me. I'd trusted her and liked her. She'd been a solid part of my life, a person who I thought was the only one who understood me. I was wrong. If I was wrong about her, who else was I blinded to?

For the first few months after I took off I was driven by a sort of insatiable anger, my mind fogged and my actions sloppy, careless, and ultimately ineffective. I'd thought I could track her down with my abilities alone, only somewhat supplemented by what little I could use of Tony's suit. In the end, I'd found no trace of her. At that point, after things had finally set in, I allowed myself to break down. All of the pain of losing my friends, being manipulated, and having all of my trust stripped from me had been building and building, and I broke. At least I had been in the right frame of mind to let myself down in the middle of a field—somewhere in Wyoming, I think—so that no one saw or was affected by what my breakdown had to offer. I can't even remember how much time I spent in the dust there, letting all of my emotions consume me.

But, I got up. I had to get up. And I had to get help.

After getting back into contact with him, Tony had begged me to come back and see the others who'd been worried about me. I refused. I wanted to find Kathrine before I did anything else. To me, finding and detaining her meant my mental freedom after all this time, even if she really was no longer controlling me. I couldn't be sure. I couldn't even attempt to resume my life until this was over. And I couldn't forgive her for the friends she had taken from me. They were calling to me somewhere from the beyond, reminding me what she did, what she cost them. Naomi had had a sister. A family. Andon...though he had never said anything about anyone, there had to be someone out there missing him. And they were both dead. Because of me. No, because of _her._ If I could keep the blame on her, I knew she wasn't in my head—even if I couldn't trust myself anymore. All I could do was try to keep my thoughts as quiet as possible.

This was my first time being back at the tower. I'd been speaking with Tony, and only Tony, through the suit's communicator, but he had finally convinced me to come in. He lured me in with the idea that he could send drones to locations around where we'd found evidence of Kathrine, though that 'evidence' was usually just whispers of her presence there. I didn't have much else. She was covering up her tracks as quickly as I could discover them, an easy feat for a woman who could erase someone's thoughts in the blink of an eye. Drones would help. She couldn't control the drones, no matter how hard she tried. The offer Tony gave me was too good to pass up. But, as payment he required that I come stay at the tower to help command the drones. I knew that wasn't the only reason, and it was a pretty poor excuse to get me to come back, but I was quickly running out of luck and needed his help. So, here I was. Back at the tower. Back face to face with Tony, who I'd missed more than I cared to say. It'd be too much for his already sky-high ego for me to dote on him and admit how much I'd missed his presence. Speaking over the suit's communicator was a poor replacement for actual communication, face to face. And, with my abilities, being face to face was essential for me to feel any sort of connection. My heart swelled with every flux of his aura.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Tony asked, looking over his shoulder at me. I had to wonder if he'd set the map aside and focused on catering to me instead. I hoped he was taking this as seriously as I was.

"No, thank you," I responded. When he returned to the counter, however, he had two glasses of wine. I had to restrain myself from groaning. Same stubborn Tony. Even after a year. I wondered if I seemed the same to him as well. I definitely didn't feel the same.

"So, how solid is this lead on Kathrine?" he asked, taking a sip of his wine while sliding the other glass towards me. I didn't even look at it, not wanting to give him that satisfaction.

"Hardly solid. There was a report in the area of widespread amnesia, which seems to fit her. Leave it to her to confuse an entire population of people just to cover her tracks. It's completely insensitive."

"Well, she is a psychopath." He took another sip. I hadn't known about Kathrine's clinical condition until I'd gotten back in contact with Tony. Apparently before Naomi was killed, Kathrine admitted that she was grateful for her psychopathic tendencies, saying it made it feel easier when controlling people. It made me sick to think about. But, it did make a lot of sense. I'd been meaning to do some reading on the condition, but I hadn't exactly had the time. Or, rather, I didn't allow myself the time. All of my attention had to be focused on Kathrine, and Kathrine only. Of course, I did need a mental break here and there to keep myself from becoming obsessed—I'd felt obsession before, when it came to Steve, and I didn't want it to happen again. I hated feeling so helpless.

"Any news about my father?" I asked, hoping to change the subject. He'd been sentenced to prison after the fall of SHIELD, and despite my resentment, I really was curious about him. Curious, not concerned. I made sure Tony knew the difference every time I asked.

"I haven't heard much. I'd bet he's just sitting in there. Hopefully really bored and feeling really shitty about everything he's done," Tony responded. The bitterness in his voice was almost flattering. He cared enough about me to have secondhand hatred for my father, and that was the kind of support I wished I'd had my entire life. Maybe if there had been someone else with me to rant about my father to when I was younger, I would have had more of a level head about it. It sure made me feel better about hating him now. A little of the guilt was gone.

"It's a wonder they haven't come to lock me up too," I mused, finally stealing a glance at the wine glass.

"You aren't like him. You didn't intentionally do anything bad." Tony, following my eyes, pushed the glass even more in my direction. I reluctantly took it, but still didn't take a sip.

"I still feel guilty."

"So does Banner. All the time. You two should have a heart to heart." He took a sip of his own wine. The thought of talking to someone besides Tony after all this time was both thrilling and terrifying. I still felt conflicted about my own feelings, and wanted Kathrine out of my head for good before I tried to rekindle any of my friendships. Then again, talking to someone else would be incredibly refreshing.

"I may have to take a rain check on that," I said finally. Tony shook his head.

"Look, I'm flattered I'm the only person you're talking to right now, but I just don't think it's healthy. Besides, don't you want to see what everyone's been up to?"

"I'd rather wait until I have myself together before I do that."

"Well, I think you've run out of waiting time." He gestured to the door as he said it, and I turned my head. I could hear talking out in the hall, and held my breath as I focused in on my second vision to identify who was coming. From here I could easily see the auras of Bruce and Natasha, walking side by side and quickly approaching. Though I really didn't want either of them to see me, I was instantly relieved that it wasn't Steve. I still couldn't face him, and every time I thought about a confrontation I felt like throwing up.

"How do I look?" I asked, though I knew the moment it came out of my mouth that it was a stupid question. How silly of me to be worrying about that.

"Great, as always," Tony responded, which actually did make me feel the slightest bit better. Natasha and Bruce came into view as they passed the glass surrounding the door, and my heart skipped in my chest. Natasha caught sight of me and quickly grabbed Bruce's arm, then gave me a warm smile. Seconds later, she'd pulled him into the room and over to me.

"Annabelle, it's been a long time," she said, still all smiles. Her hair was short again, cut inches above her shoulders. I was starting to expect her hair changes, and wondered for a moment if I should change mine at some point.

"Sorry for being out of contact," I said, though I couldn't really make any excuse for it. I had been avoiding them, after all.

"We were afraid you'd gone off the grid for good," she said, then looked over at Tony. "You've been hiding her from us?"

"'Fraid so," Tony responded, a glint in his eye. I shook my head.

"This is the first time I've been back to the tower. I've been speaking with Tony for a few months over the suit's communicator, but I begged him not to tell anyone. I'm sorry. I just wasn't...ready." It sounded lame, even though I'd tried to put it lightly.

"We're just glad you didn't get yourself into trouble," Bruce said. I met his eyes, warmth filling me. I'd missed those kind eyes.

"What have you been doing?" Natasha asked, drawing my attention back to her.

"Searching for Kathrine," I responded. Their faces grew serious.

"Have you found anything?"

"Not yet. My leads are often dead ends."

"I'm going to send some drones out for her. Scope out some areas. See if we can't get her some help with this," Tony said. Natasha nodded in response.

"Well, you might have to put a pause on that. We've got another location that might hold the scepter." She directed this at Tony, her face still serious.

"Scepter?" I asked.

"Loki's scepter," Bruce clarified. "We've been looking for it. Hydra has it, but they've been pretty good at keeping it concealed." My stomach turned at the mention of the name.

"I'll meet you guys in the main room in a bit. Just give us a sec to wrap up," Tony said. The two nodded, then looked back to me.

"It's good to have you back, Annabelle," Natasha said, her face softening. I mustered a smile and nodded my head. They left the room a few moments later, after making sure Tony would be down as soon as possible. I wasn't sure what we had to wrap up, but I was fairly certain I could run everything while he was gone.

"I've got something for you," he said, crossing to the other side of the room. When he returned he held a small box in his hand. I watched as he set it down and slid it across the counter towards me, acting as if sliding me something that so suspiciously looked like a ring box wasn't a big deal. I hesitantly picked it up, my eyes not leaving him.

"What is this?"

"Belated birthday present. Pepper helped pick it out," he said. At least that squashed any idea of it being a ring. I think. I turned the box over in my hand, touched by the gesture no matter what was inside. My birthday had been in October, so the present was very delayed, but it was my own fault I hadn't been around. I didn't expect anyone to remember, anyway. I rarely celebrated my birthday in the past, considering my father's bitter nature.

"Go ahead, open it," Tony said, sounding impatient. I did as he said and tipped the box open, peering inside. It was a small locket made of white gold, etched with tiny, precise carvings on the edges that looked like lightning bolts. In the center was an A, small, intricate flowers surrounding it. The designs were breathtaking, and I didn't even have to ask to know this had been custom made.

"It's beautiful," I said, taking it out to get a better look at it.

"We figured a locket would be good. It's something you can put things in, whatever you want that's small enough. Which means you can always have something special to you close to your heart. Or something like that. Pepper's words, not mine." I had to hold in a laugh, keeping my eyes on the locket.

"Of course," I said, smiling a bit. "Thank you, Tony. And tell Pepper thank you for me too, please." I finally lifted my head to look at him, glad to find him looking pleased.

"We thought you'd like it." He shrugged it off like no big deal, but I could feel he was happy at how it had been received. It was funny that someone so used to gifting and spending could be so affected by one person's reaction.

"You should get going. I'm sure the others are waiting for you," I said, closing my fingers over the locket. I was going to put it on as soon as he was gone, but I wasn't going to get it on now and risk looking too eager. I'm sure he would have loved me throwing it on immediately and making a grand gesture about how great it was.

"We'll be in touch. The drones are set on auto, but you can watch the tracker just in case and call me if something is up. I may or may not be available depending on what we find."

"I'm sure I can handle it," I said. He nodded in response and headed for the door.

"Oh, and Green?"

"Yeah?"

"I put something in the locket already. You'll love it. That was all my idea, Pepper had no part of it. So, you're welcome." He saluted me and left the room, an uneasy feeling rising in my chest. Did I dare look? I made sure Tony was out of sight before turning my attention back to the locket, my fingers hesitating near the clasp. I could only hope it wasn't a nude picture of Tony himself. He wouldn't do that, right? Then again, not much was beyond Tony Stark. I flipped the clasp open and glanced inside, peering down at the small space. Nestled inside, cut the perfect shape, was a faded black and white picture of Steve. I examined it for a moment, a range of emotions bubbling inside me, then quickly shut it and held it against my chest. I was sure I was blushing, and I was more than happy that no one was around to see it. The nerve of Tony, putting something like that in my birthday present. That was so typical of him. However, I didn't remove the picture as I slowly clasped the necklace around my neck. And I definitely didn't remove it as I slipped the chain under my neckline, keeping it hidden under my shirt. When Tony came back, I'd tell him I'd taken it out, and chastise him for thinking he was clever for putting it in there. But, really, I'd keep it around for a while. I wasn't sure why, but it seemed right to keep it in there. For now, anyway. As controversial as Steve seemed in my mind right now, he was still a constant in my life, both good and bad. I just couldn't part with it; I was here because of him. I owed this life to him. Even if I'd been forced here with bad intentions, even if everything I'd ever felt for him was a Kathrine-implanted lie, he was the sole reason for this existence. I wasn't about to forget that.

I stared at the flashing coordinate on Tony's screen, the locket feeling hot against my skin.


	45. Book II Pt II Ch 2

I caught myself sifting through Tony's computer files about an hour later, too glued to the screens in the hope that his bots would spot Kathrine and alert me. I didn't dare move from the table. And, I felt strange in this tower now. Even though Tony had assured me that I still had a room upstairs, that this was, and always would be, my home, I couldn't bring myself to accept it. My year of traveling, washing and eating here and there, where I could, made me feel like an outsider inside of this place. This had been my home only briefly, but that was before everything had fallen. That was before I'd lost my friends. My mind. Everything I'd known. Things felt different now.

At first Tony's files were overwhelming. He had so much information stored in his databases—not to mention he had access to a lot of other databases, whether those be allowed or hacked—and there was too much to simply browse through. It wasn't until I had a few specific ideas in mind that I really got into it. My first idea had been to look up Naomi, see her life, see what she left behind, but I couldn't even bring myself to type her name. Instead, I focused on a live target: Clive.

Clive Willow had been a constant when I was growing up, a man who had helped me and guided me through the confusing world of my abilities. Yet...I hadn't even thought of him recently. Of course, Kathrine had blocked my memories of him for quite a while, trying to keep me away from knowing my past so that she could isolate me in whatever story Hydra crafted. Even after I remembered him, though, thoughts of him had still been pushed back. There were so many things going on in my life, so many new experiences and problems, that I'd been completely absorbed in the present. It was only now, in my search for Kathrine, that I let myself think back to what my life had been before. I'll be honest, there wasn't a lot of it that I wanted to remember. But Clive...Clive had been a positive thing. My heart tugged when I finally allowed myself to think of the time we'd spent together.

My father had never liked Clive. I don't think he'd known, at first, that Clive and I had our abilities in common, but he hadn't liked Clive's personality either. Yet for some reason he kept him around. My guess was that he was too busy to try to find me another English teacher, and he knew that English was essential for me to learn—to help him with his business, of course. English-speaking scientists were gaining recognition far faster than he'd expected, and he wanted to get in on that. He himself wasn't horrible at English, but, as usual, he felt that he could use me and my skills with language to win over everyone I could. I started lessons when I was thirteen.

Clive seemed rather quiet at first, his curly dark hair tossed over his head in a way that was both casual and clean. His eyes were dark, hidden behind rounded glasses, and I wasn't at all surprised when my father told me he was a university professor and a scientist himself. He looked the part. Unlike all of my other instructors, though, there was something different about him. I must have felt our connection immediately, even if I didn't know what it was. Looking at him made me feel like I was looking at myself, in some weird, complex way that I couldn't put my finger on. But he smiled at me with a knowing smile when I told him. He knew. Of course he did. He'd sought me out specifically, sensing my presence. I remember him telling me that his mother had been like me, full of power and strength that came from an unknown source, and that to him, I felt familiar. I was what mattered to him. At that age, after just losing my own mother, that was exactly what I needed. I needed to matter. I needed someone to look at me like Clive looked at me.

I typed his name into Tony's system, somewhat surprised when a university page immediately popped up. Things had been so crazy, and it had been years, so I'd expected him to vanish. After all of the alien encounters and supernatural happenings, someone was sure to notice that Clive wasn't normal. But...here he was. I clicked the link.

The page was simple, just a list of his degrees and accomplishments, as well as a link to his published works. I was more drawn to the picture in the corner—I hadn't seen his face in so long. His smile in the photo was so warm and familiar, and, to my surprise, I could feel my eyes burn as my abilities surged. He looked just as young as he had when I knew him, not a gray hair on his head. The hair was cut a bit shorter than I remembered, but everything else was the same. Clive stood still in time.

I hovered over the email provided under his picture, a strange sweat breaking out over me as I stared at it. It would be so easy to contact him now. I was back at the tower, back in a place of stability—somewhat, at least—and now I had my old mentor's contact information a button-click away. I could stay here and settle in again, make my life the way I wanted it, push Kathrine out and invite some of my past back in. Things could be okay. But…

I closed the page. It didn't feel right—not now. Clive still had his job, and likely had a life and family that he'd created for himself. If I reintegrated myself into that life, I would only bring trouble. I brought trouble to everyone. My mouth felt dry as I thought about this, memories of Naomi and Andon being drudged up from the back of my mind, where I'd tried to keep them locked up. They were both dead because of me. And, if I wasn't careful, people would continue to die. I couldn't take that risk.

A few hours passed before I felt anyone return to the tower. I had been speaking with Jarvis, having him update me on what I'd missed when I was gone—after deciding that I couldn't bear to sift through the computer any longer—when suddenly I sensed them enter the building. Judging by how fast they seemed to show up on my radar—and by 'radar' I mean that they were close enough for me to feel their auras—I assumed they'd come in by jet. I'd expected them to be gone much longer, and my nerves got the best of me as I quickly focused my attention back on the drone tracking system. It didn't need close monitoring, really; the drones were programmed to go to a specific location, and nothing seemed that out of sorts. But as I was intensely watching the screen, trying to block out the auras of everyone as they walked as a group through the building, I tried to convince myself that the monitoring was suddenly extremely necessary. Though I hadn't focused in enough to look, I was sure Steve had to be among the group, and I still wasn't ready to see him yet. Maybe, if I was lucky, Tony hadn't told anyone else about my arrival. I didn't dare check if anyone was coming my way, though, and kept my second vision tuned out. Er...aura vision? Energy vision? I still hadn't decided what I should call that part of my abilities. It was hard enough to explain as it was. I didn't need terms to further complicate it.

But, because I had that part of my abilities tuned out, I was very surprised when someone was suddenly behind me, grabbing my shoulder. I muffled a scream with my hand and quickly spun around, praying to any god that would listen for my sudden visitor not to be Steve. Whoever was listening, they heard me loud and clear. In fact, they might have been standing right in front of me. Because though my visitor was blonde and blue eyed, he most certainly wasn't Steve.

"Thor," I said, the relief evident in my voice. I hadn't realized how tense my body had been until I let my shoulders relax. Thor gave me a grand, toothy smile, grabbing my other shoulder as soon as I was fully facing him.

"Annabelle Green. It has been a while, has it not?" he asked.

"Over a year," I responded. Though I'd seen my other superhero pals periodically—minus the time I had spent in isolation from them during my hunt for Kathrine—I hadn't seen Thor since November. That was over a year and a half ago. He hadn't changed much over that time, though I was almost certain his hair had only gotten longer and more luxurious. I tried not to think of my own wild locks.

"How have you been?" he asked.

"Not too great," I answered, wondering if I should have lied. His bright expression faded, his brow wrinkling in concern. The immediate sink in his mood made me regret having said it.

"What has happened?"

"Far too much to explain in detail, I'm afraid. I suppose, long story short, I found that a woman has been subliminally controlling my thoughts for a large portion of my life." In normal circumstances, I might be amused at the shock that showed on his face. "I'm sure you've heard by now that SHIELD has gone down after Hydra broke out. I lost a few friends in that. I lost a lot of other things as well, actually. My father is in prison. My thoughts are a mess. I've been searching now for the woman who controlled me, hoping I can find her and get her locked away before she can hurt anyone else. I wish I could do more, but this is all I've got." I swallowed, finally managing to shut myself up. Though it was a very brief and vague summary, a lump still rose in my throat when I thought about the events that transpired a year ago. Naomi and Andon's deaths still weighed heavily on me, as did my hatred for Kathrine and all of Hydra. I wondered if that anger showed on my face, because Thor squeezed my shoulders tightly.

"I am sorry to hear of these troubles. Heimdall did inform me of Naomi Taylor's death, and she will be greatly missed by all. She was a wonderful warrior. I am not sure who else you have lost, but my heart grieves with you, Annabelle Green." I hadn't expected his eloquent words to hit me so hard, but suddenly I was holding back tears. Tony had been nice to talk and vent to during the past year, when I'd been in contact with him, but the way he dealt with sadness was similar to how I did—we talked about it as little and as detached as possible. Hearing these kind words from Thor were both heartbreaking and much needed.

"I missed you," I managed to spit out, embracing him in a somewhat awkward hug. We hadn't exactly gotten very close during our time together, but it was apparent he was just what I needed right now. I considered telling him about Steve and my conflicting feelings and memories, but I decided against it and instead decided to savor the hug, awkward as it may have been. When I finally pulled back to look at him he had that grand smile on again, though it seemed softer.

"Have you discovered more about your mysterious abilities?" he asked.

"I've picked up things here and there, but it still confuses me just as much as it confuses you. Sometimes I feel as if I can figure it out, find some scientific reason behind it, but the answers always slip out of my fingers. I'll get it eventually, I'm sure." I thought back to Clive, wondering how much more he knew than I did. My jaw tightened. If he did know more, then so be it. I couldn't risk the contact.

"Perhaps Stark can help you with your journey after we have found my brother's scepter. Two genius minds are far better than one."

"So, I take it you didn't find it, then." I said. His nod confirmed it. "Why are you so desperate to look for it?" I asked, hoping to get off the subject of my powers. Not coming up with any breakthroughs on how they worked always frustrated me, and even speaking about my failure agitated me. It was better to keep away from the subject. I didn't want to delve into a dark mood just now, not when I was feeling somewhat decent. The dark moods I was experiencing recently felt far deeper than they had in the past, which concerned me. My emotional highs and lows were all over the place.

"It holds immense power, one that should never fall into the wrong hands. They fear this 'Hydra' has it, and from what I'm told, they are the worst hands to behold it. The sooner we locate it, the sooner I can take it back home and lock it away from mortal use. We will keep it safely guarded." His chest puffed out as he spoke, an involuntary action that showed his determination. I envied his confidence. Letting out a breath, I allowed my second vision to fall back into place around me so that I could survey his aura, in hopes that some of his radiating confidence and pride would rub off on me. It took a moment for my mind to focus, but soon my vision set in, and an illuminated silhouette settled over Thor's body. This was how my vision usually looked, though it was normal enough to me by now that I hardly noticed it unless I purposefully shut it off. It was a natural sixth sense of mine, and though I couldn't explain it in words anyone could understand, it felt perfectly comfortable to me. The best way to describe the sense was that it was somewhere between seeing and feeling. Though I could visibly see the indescribable color permeating around and inside of Thor, I could also feel it in my core. I could close my eyes and still 'see' him, feel his color in my chest, know exactly where he was and what he was feeling so long as he was within my range. Right now his aura was warmer than usual, stronger, and, as I expected, it filled me with the same confidence and determination that he himself was feeling.

But the feeling was short lived. Dread rolled over me as I allowed myself to shift my sixth sense to a wider radius, where I found Tony heading straight for the room we were in.

And Steve was with him.

I frantically looked around for an exit, somewhere I could run to to avoid this confrontation, but it was too late. Before I could even move Tony was through the door, Steve walking beside him. My breath caught. Thor turned and extended his arms to his friends, unaware of the agony I was in. I tried to shut off my second vision again, push away the feeling of Steve's aura so that I could speak to him as if he were an empty shell, just as I had when he spoke with me through the suit before I went off the grid, but I couldn't turn it off quick enough. Before I knew it, Tony had pushed Steve in my direction, and we were suddenly face to face. A mix of emotions engulfed me. There was no doubt he looked different, felt different, after Kathrine's charms had worn off. Before when I looked at him I was filled with an immeasurable feeling of joy and a rush of butterflies in my gut, brought on by my complete infatuation. Now, however, I looked at him and felt nothing. No, not nothing. There was a warmth that rose in me as he smiled, a gentle smile that I'd greatly missed. While before I'd felt I was standing in the presence of a god, now I felt he was just as human as I was. I was very aware of his busted lip, his hair disheveled from his helmet. This was the first time I'd been able to look at Steve without Kathrine's manipulation, and I was suddenly so aware of how imperfect he was.

And I loved it.

I silently cursed myself for not coming to him and experiencing this sooner, all the while making sure to give him a meaningful smile in response. All this time I had worried of how he'd look to me, how he'd feel, how _I'd_ feel. How could I have known that seeing him for who he was, with no infatuation, no outside influence, would make him all the more beautiful?

"I'm sorry," I blurted out, though I wasn't sure if the apology was for him or myself. Maybe both. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tony shoving Thor out the door, pulling it shut as quietly as he could as soon as they were both out.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Steve said. It reminded me of what he'd said months ago, when his words had been projected through Tony's suit. If only I had known then that I shouldn't be afraid to talk to him.

"I've been avoiding you," I admitted, which was far easier to say than I thought it would be. He didn't even look hurt.

"I know."

"Kathrine...she did so much to my thoughts. I didn't know what was real. I should have talked to you about it, but to be honest, I was terrified. I was scared that you would look different. I thought that maybe she'd altered enough that when I saw you again you'd be like a different person, and I didn't want that. I didn't want anyone to be different. I've just been so frustrated," I explained, hoping it was enough. The sympathetic look on his face told me it was.

"What she did to you was awful. I understand you being scared. But I think the best thing now is for you to be around the people who care about you and try to get your life back in order." The way he suggested it made it sound so simple, but I knew it was much harder than that.

"I can't feel normal until I know she's somewhere locked up. I have to know she can't get to me again." _Or my friends_ , I thought. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anyone else got hurt because of me.

"I can look out for her. I've been on a search of my own for someone. I'll see what I can do," he offered. That warm feeling engulfed my chest again.

"Thank you, Steve, really. But don't go out of your way to help me. I want to be the one to find her. I want to be the one to put her away." The bitterness that came out in my voice was unintentional, but I couldn't help it.

"Just be careful," he said warily. I took a calming breath and nodded.

"I'll be smart about it. She's too clever for me to go into this without any thought. The anger just gets to me sometimes. Knowing she's been in my head for years, manipulating my thoughts and actions...it's just too much for me to let go of."

"Don't let it consume you," he warned, then reached out and squeezed my shoulder. A year ago that gesture would have rendered me helpless, weak in the knees, but now it was surprisingly comforting. I even leaned into his arm a bit.

"I won't," I assured him.

"Are you coming on our next raid?" He released my shoulder and reached for his belt, which he rested his hands on. It was a familiar gesture, and once again I was overwhelmed with how normal it seemed.

"You're going on another one?" I asked.

"We got another hint while we were out on this one. But it's a bit far away. Ever heard of Sokovia?" I nodded my head, glancing over at the computer monitor to my left. The drones Tony and I programmed were still on track—for Slovakia.

"Somewhere near the Czech Republic, right?" I asked.

"Something like that. Apparently Hydra has a base there," he explained. I held my breath. Slovakia and Sokovia were fairly close to each other, from what I could remember after studying detailed maps of Europe when I was younger. If there was a Hydra base in Sokovia, was it possible that Kathrine could have made it there? Sparks of anticipation shot up my spine and through my fingertips

"Count me in," I said. He looked mildly surprised, but nodded anyway.

"We're leaving within the hour. If you have a suit, change into it. Meet us downstairs." I told him I would, then waited before he left to run a hand through my hair, nerves welling up inside of me. All of my work up to this point had been hiding and snooping around. This was a full out attack on a Hydra base, one that I wasn't sure I was prepared for. That, and I hadn't ever used my suit before. Tony and I designed it, yet I hadn't taken it out once. I had no need to. Something about putting it on scared me, as if just by wearing the suit I was becoming a part of something bigger. Maybe I was. I thought I had wanted that, back when I first arrived, but now it seemed so much more daunting. Could I handle it?

"I've prepared your suit for you in a room downstairs, Miss Green," Jarvis chimed in. I thanked him and asked for directions to the room, checking one last time on the monitor for the drones before exiting and following what he'd said. It took me to the floor Tony had built for me, which I should have expected. I hadn't been in here since he'd first built it.

'I'd like you to stay at your room _here_. No more running back and forth across states,' Kathrine had told me back then, which had convinced me, though I was reluctant, that maybe staying at the tower wasn't for me. By 'here' she'd meant Washington D.C., which I still couldn't think about without feeling sick. That's where everything had gone wrong. At the time I thought she was right, that she genuinely cared about me and wanted me to stay back and focus on my work. That was just another one of her lies. As I walked down the hall now, feeling at peace from the lower energy output Tony had configured specifically for this floor, I knew this was where I should have been the entire time. She'd manipulated me to stay close to Steve. She'd even brought him up as a tool to keep me staying in D.C. How couldn't I have seen through her? It seemed so obvious that she had ill intentions now that I was looking back at it, but at the time I'd been completely oblivious. Though...my heart still ached when I thought about her betrayal, and when I thought about my time with her. She had helped, in some aspects. Even though I knew now that it was all a lie, all a ploy to get me to do what Hydra wanted, I couldn't help but shake the feeling that maybe sometimes she'd had good intentions. Did psychopaths ever have good intentions?

I made my way to the room Jarvis directed me to, which looked to be a supply closet at the end of my hall. When I opened it, however, I was met with a large space I hadn't seen before. The walls were lined with shelves, some filled with books and various scientific supplies, others left empty. There was a glass desk near the center. Off to the side was a large glass case with a small plaque that read, after closer inspection, 'Annabelle.' I could only guess this is where my suit had been. Now, however, it was neatly folded on the corner of the desk, the shoes on the floor beside it. I carefully picked it up and looked it over, running my hands over the unique fabric. Tony and I had spent a few weeks both over the phone and in person trying to figure out what materials to use and what design to adorn the suit with to make it unique, back when I'd been working at the Triskelion. We first considered just going with a black suit not too different from Natasha's, but Tony decided it was too simple. Eventually we'd chosen to go with white for the majority of the color, though we'd also implemented the black around my abdomen. The shoes and cuffs were also black, the cuffs made of a more solid material that looked like a plastic but held the power of a metal. Because I'd refused gloves, he'd insisted I at least have the metal as protection for my wrists and lower arms. As for design, we used my signature blue color in various places, subtle, but enough to be noticed.

As I examined it farther I realized there were large cut outs on the sides, near the hips—a flashy design Tony and I had sketched out for fun, but one that I'd never thought would be used. He'd also noticeably left out the zipper, leaving the neckline low cut. I cursed myself for having let him actually construct the outfit by himself, though as I put it on and surveyed myself in a large mirror hung up on the wall I had to admit the exposed skin was tasteful. It wasn't practical, of course, but that didn't matter too much to me. If I got a spear or a knife or whatever else in the side, I'd simply regenerate. It would hurt, but it wouldn't do me much damage in the long run. I slipped the shoes on—a pair of over-the-knee black boots made out of a special material to ensure flexible mobility—and brushed my hair over my shoulders, taking a gander at myself once again in the mirror. This Annabelle was something I wasn't used to. I looked good. And, I actually looked like I fit in with the rest of the Avengers. That brought up a bundle of emotions, but I did my best to keep them out of the way. I pulled myself away from the mirror and left the room behind.

The others were already gathered downstairs by the time I arrived. They all chatted amongst themselves, but my entrance turned everyone's heads. I tried to muster up a smile, swallowing the guilt that welled in my chest as they looked at me with bright eyes, even after I'd technically abandoned them. I hadn't really realized anyone would miss me during my time away, but the look on everyone's faces told me they all had. I quickly crossed the room to join in and elbowed Tony in the side.

"You forgot the zipper," I told him, simultaneously trying to adjust my low cut suit in the process. He met me with a grin.

"I didn't forget."

"I'm telling Pepper."

"Back, and filled with sass," Clint said, nodding his head at me as I smiled at him. "Good to have you on the team."

"You may be a great help to this expedition," Thor said, directing his words at me. "We've been discussing it, and we believe you may be able to tell from afar whether the scepter is in the area or not. It holds a power inside of it that is very strong. You are able to read Mjolnir, are you not?" I thought back to my first days at the tower, when I had managed to miraculously lift Thor's hammer by overpowering it with my own energy. Remembering how the hammer itself had felt, the strange pulse coming off of it, I nodded my head.

"If you can see that, we're willing to bet you can see the scepter too," Tony explained.

"I can sure give it a shot," I replied. Though I was no expert on alien artifacts, I did have a fairly solid understanding of what I could do with my abilities by now. If it emitted a special aura, I'd be able to sense it just like I could sense a piece of electrical equipment, or a human. "I'm not sure how far my range is," I admitted after a moment of thinking.

"I'll get you close enough," Steve said.

"Steve's taking his bike. We'll put you on back and get you as close as you need," Tony added. I furrowed my brow.

"I can just run as close as I need to by myself. There's no need to get anyone else directly involved."

"Will you need a lot of focus to find the scepter?" Steve asked. I thought about it, slowly catching on.

"...yes. Which means I may not be fully aware enough to protect myself if the base is heavily armed. I'll be able to fight to a certain extent, but I'm not sure how much focus it's going to take to actually read the scepter, especially if they're trying to hide its presence."

"So, bike it is," he said. I nodded, reluctantly. I didn't want anyone to risk getting hurt because I needed to be somewhat close to search for the scepter. But, I suppose they would have taken the entire base anyway if I wasn't there, so there really was no harm in it. Besides, if I was searching for both the scepter and Kathrine, who had a notoriously difficult aura to focus in on, I'd need all the help I could get. I didn't dare mention my suspicion of Kathrine being there to anyone else, though, lest they think I would slack on finding the scepter because of it. I'd keep everything about my search for her private, as long as I could.

"We should get going. It's a long flight," Clint said. The others nodded, then followed him out as he headed to the elevator which would take them up to the landing pad. Tony stayed back, waving them on in dismissal as they tried to hold the elevator door for him. As the doors closed, he turned to me.

"The drones are scouting Slovakia. Think it's a coincidence that there's a potential Hydra base in Sokovia? I assume you know your maps pretty well," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I hesitated, considering lying to him, then let out a small sigh. There was no use keeping things from Tony; he was too good at figuring things out.

"I'm hoping it isn't a coincidence."

"What are you going to do if you find her? Should we tell the others to watch out for her?" he asked. I quickly shook my head, keeping my voice low.

"There's nothing they'd be able to do anyway if they came across her. This stays between you and me. Understand?"

"Perfectly." He met me with one of his rare serious looks, and I knew he wouldn't mess around with this.

"Then let's go."


	46. Book II Pt II Ch 3

The wind whipped my hair across my face as Steve and I sped forward on his bike, my back pushed up against his. From my position I was able to watch for enemies that would come up from behind us while at the same time focusing half of my attention on the search for the scepter. We were nearing the base, which could be either deserted or heavily armed. I prayed for the first, though the chances that Hydra would leave the scepter unprotected seemed very unlikely. It was either we dealt with no trouble and no scepter, or tons of trouble to guard it. There was no in between.

"I've got my eyes on the base. Try to keep quiet. We'll make this a sneak attack if we can," Tony said over our earpieces, which I had been outfitted with in the jet on the way here. "Cap, get Green as close as you can without attracting attention."

"Might be a bit too late for that," Steve admitted. I shifted my body and held his arm to keep me steady, peering over his shoulder. There were three visible guards many yards ahead of us, and as Steve slowed his bike a bit I sensed that there were five more hidden.

"My count is eight," I told Steve, keeping my voice low.

"Where are the others?"

"Behind the trees." I glanced around the area, which was wooded and blanketed in snow; it was the complete opposite of what I'd expected. I figured Hydra would build their bases in the depths of hell, like in a scorching desert or underground. This forest seemed too serene to be invaded by an evil organization.

"Can you tell if they're armed?" Natasha called over the earpiece.

"If they are, it's nothing too complicated. Probably just..." I trailed off, a few new auras coming into view—in the sky.

"Alright, well, those are a bit complicated," I muttered. The auras were a jumble, indicating that there were humans as well as some sort of electrical devices, which I assumed to be weapons. "They're in the air. And very armed, from what I can see."

"Doesn't look like they're going to play nice," Steve said.

"This may very well be it, then," Thor commented. "The scepter may be here."

"Still scout out for it, Green," Tony added. I nodded to myself, then took a deep breath and squeezed Steve's arm before getting back in my position.

"Let's give them a show," I said.

"Ma'am." He revved his bike and we shot forward, now very quickly approaching the guards. I held my hands up and let a few sparks snap between my fingers, trying to keep my balance on the seat of the bike as the wind whipped past us. It would be worth it to warm up my abilities now, so that I could attack at any time if I needed to. I didn't forget my mission, though, nor forget my search for Kathrine. I once again dedicated half of my energy to searching for specific auras, anything strange, while keeping myself semi-aware at the same time. A guard flew over my head as I settled into my second vision, which came as only a mild distraction. I could handle that.

That is, until we hit a hill and soared through the air on the bike. I quickly lost my focus and grabbed what I could of the seat, barely managing to keep myself grounded.

"Sorry," Steve grunted, taking a sharp turn. I nearly rolled off.

"You think I'm going to be able to focus like this?" I yelled over the bike's motor as we hit another bump in the road. I gripped whatever part of the bike I could.

"Just do your best," he responded. I sighed. Yet again I attempted to focus and expand my radius, picking up on the large amount of Hydra soldiers scattered in the area. That, and their weapons.

"You've got a lot more coming," I said. "And a lot more weapons that are way too bright to be anything normal."

A large tank-like vehicle suddenly burst out from the trees near us, but after a quick evaluation I was relieved to find Clint and Natasha piloting it. However, another one was gaining, men in beige suits firing strange weapons at them. Clint popped out from the back and took out the two men in one shot, ducking back under as soon as they were down and out. I nearly applauded him—not that I could lift my hands from their tight grip on the seat. Another of the vehicles came soaring over us, smoking, engulfed in flames. I watched with wide eyes as it crashed behind us into a large mound of snow. Luckily we were going fast enough to be far away from it before it exploded. I clutched the bike, wondering what the hell I'd gotten myself into.

"I see what you're talking about," Tony said. I heard the distinct sound of his repulsors blasting, and some of the snow that had gathered on one of the tall trees suddenly came showering down on us. Then, from a gap in the trees, I saw the gleam of Tony's metal suit as he shot off into the distance.

"Shit!" he yelled after a moment. I quickly brushed the snow out of my hair, wondering what was going on up there.

"Language," Steve chastised, pulling his shield off of his back and ramming it into a Hydra agent who had crossed our path. I reached out and grabbed his arm as he flew past us, giving him an electric shock for good measure before releasing him off the back of the bike. He rolled across the snow, looking, almost comically, like some sort of human snowball.

"Sense anything special about that big building up there?" Clint asked. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to push my vision that far.

"It's got a veil of energy surrounding it. Heavy duty stuff," I answered. It all looked like a blur to me, though it was definitely some form of force-field meant to keep us out. As long as it was there, I couldn't see any farther into the building.

"It seems to be an energy shield," Jarvis cut in. "Strucker's technology is well beyond any other Hydra base we've taken."

"That confirms it. Loki's scepter must be here," Thor said, sounding relieved. I was glad he was certain—the veil was making things very difficult. I heard Steve whip his shield at a few targets ahead of us that I couldn't see, my back still pressed to his. Despite the cold air and the snow, we were both radiating head. I was certain I was sweating.

After a moment we flew into the air again, catching me off guard.

"Grab that for me," Steve shouted, and I quickly pulled my attention back, just in time to see his shield heading towards me at a concerning speed. I balanced myself on what part of the bike I could, reaching up and grabbing it before it swung over us. The sheer force of it nearly knocked me off—again—but I managed to stay up. I passed it to him as soon as he reached back for it, holding tightly to the bike again when I could.

"I can't see past that energy barrier. If the scepter is inside, that's doing a good job of covering it," I said.

"Wait a second," Tony said, and I perked up. If he had a way to disable it, I'd be able to see inside the building. Though we'd almost concluded the scepter was in fact here, I still wanted to confirm it. That, and I was still desperately hoping to find a trace of Kathrine.

"No one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said 'language'?" he continued. I nearly groaned aloud.

"I know," Steve grumbled, while abruptly pushing me off the back of the bike. I held in a scream as I hit the ground, trying my best to tuck and roll with the fall, and, eventually, successfully sticking my landing. Then, I looked back over my shoulder to locate Steve and the bike, my adrenaline surging. He raised his body and suddenly hoisted himself up over the front of the bike, tugging it with him as he turned, releasing it into a nearby Hydra vehicle. It went up in flames almost instantly, the burst of the explosion throwing my hair back. I covered my face as much as I could with my arm, the wave of heat melting much of the snow around me and splattering water in every direction.

"It just slipped out," he continued. Once I'd adjusted—and made sure there was no risk of another explosion—I jogged back to him, brushing myself off as I did.

"A warning would be nice," I said, straining a few stray water droplets from my hair.

"Sorry. It was a last minute decision."

"Never going to get a girlfriend like that, Cap," Tony commented.

"He's right," I added, jokingly, though I shifted my eyes away from his face. Steve shook his head.

"Come on," he said. I followed him as he sprinted into a group of soldiers, effortlessly taking them all out. One came up from behind me, standing several feet away, but I was ready for him. I ducked as he shot at me, then slid across the snow and had a hand at his throat before he could react, releasing a deadly jolt of electricity into his veins. Much to my morbid satisfaction, his mouth filled with foam and his eyes rolled back into his head as his body twitched from the contact. As soon as I was sure he was dead I dropped him on the ground, leaving him to go assist Steve. Though I didn't have a lot of experience with any fighting that wasn't close range, I decided to give it a try and pick on the enemies from afar. I sucked in a deep breath of chilled air, letting my second vision completely take over as I brought my hands out in front of me. Pinpointing all of the auras around that didn't belong to Steve—who was stuck in the middle of them all—I set my targets. I crossed my wrists and clenched my fingers into a fist, holding tight to the invisible lines of energy that I sensed in all the Hydra soldiers. Gritting my teeth, I pulled my hands apart, as if tearing something open. In a way, I was. The auras all went out at once, like someone had blown out a set of candles, and a wave of satisfaction yet again rolled over me. The feeling was invigorating—that is, if I didn't think about the implications of what I was doing.

It took me a moment to regain my normal, physical vision, spots dancing across my eyes. Steve, clearly stunned, stepped over one of the bodies and jogged over to me.

"You're not going to pass out, right?" he asked. The last time I had used that move was a year ago, when I had harnessed my power to take down the 'mothership' of an invading alien force. At the time I'd still been burdened with the metal chip in my heart that my father had embedded in me, which made every expression of my powers exhausting. This, however, was different. I didn't have that metal as a hindrance. I felt great. I felt powerful.

"Not a chance," I said.

"Good, because you might need to do it again." He gestured towards the base of the building, where more soldiers and tanks were pouring out of a few openings. I cracked my knuckles, feeling the power well inside of me.

"Not a problem."

"I hate to tell you, Green, but I've got to pull the drones from your investigation for a bit," Tony said, grunting. "I don't think Strucker's going to worry about civilian casualties. I need to send them in to warn the population."

"Do what you have to," I said, feeling a bit more secure now that we were actually at the base, and likely nearby Kathrine herself. The drones had done their job, and now I had an idea of where she was. A pretty good idea, by the looks of it.

I flinched as someone's fist hit my mouth, pushing the attacker to the side to get him off of me. I put down another in time to start grappling with a soldier who ran at me with a knife. They seemed to be coming from all directions.

"What did you think you were going to do with that? Stab me?" I spat at him, ramming him forcefully into a tree. More snow tumbled from the branches, but I didn't have time to brush myself off. Blood filled my mouth from the blow I'd taken earlier.

"Check for the scepter again," Steve said, coming up beside me and taking my arm, steering me off in another direction. I took his lead and shifted into my second vision again, the transition coming much easier after I'd used so much of my abilities.

"I still can't see past the barrier."

"What the hell?" Clint muttered.

"I'm sorry," I huffed, not sure what he expected of me. I may have had strong abilities, but this was even beyond my range.

"No, not you," he said. I waited for him to elaborate, but it didn't come. Instead, I heard a loud grunt. I shifted my vision to try to find where he was, fearing something was wrong, but another aura caught my eye.

"We've got something weird headed this way, moving fast. I—" Before I could finish Steve and I were shoved to the ground by a great force, the breath getting knocked out of me. My ribs ached, like I'd just taken a hit from a baseball bat. Groaning, I spat again, blood dotting the white of the snow. Steve recovered quicker than I did and held out a hand to help me up.

"Was that…?"

"A person?" I asked, finding the strange aura again and focusing in on it. "...yes. It's a person."

"We have an enhanced in the field," Steve said quickly, pressing his fingers to his earpiece.

"And Clint's been hit," Natasha added, sounding strained. I wondered how bad the hit was, but didn't think it was best to ask about it. Another set of soldiers marched towards us and we took our stances, back to back again, fighting them off as best we could.

"Stark, we really need to get inside," Steve yelled over the grunts of the man he was attacking. In a swift move he threw him to the ground, allowing me to turn and pull the life out of him.

"I'm closing in," Tony confirmed, but I had to wonder if he was bluffing. That was the problem with Tony Stark: he always sounded confident, even if he had no idea what he was doing. After a few more moments of fighting, however, I could feel the shield around the building disintegrating. I quickly put down my current attacker and kicked the other two out of the way, pushing my back against Steve's.

"Cover for me. The shield's down. I'm going to try to see inside," I said. He pulled his shield away from his back, pushing it into my hands.

"Use that."

I held it up to deflect a gunshot from a nearby soldier, letting myself relax to read the area. Now that the shield was down I could push my vision to nearly the entire building, finding that there were plenty more people inside. I passed by them mentally, pushing aside normal human energies until I settled on one that seemed peculiar. It wasn't human at all, yet it held some strange qualities that almost reminded me of the way human energies worked. I couldn't be positive, but I was willing to bet, based on its slight resemblance to what I'd felt in Mjolnir, that this was in fact what we were looking for. But Kathrine...I didn't feel Kathrine. I could push for longer, stay silent until I found her, but...

"The scepter is inside," I said, snapping back to my primary vision as another gunshot went off and a bullet lodged in my leg. I yelled out in pain, but quickly cut myself off by biting down hard on my lip. Sliding my hands to the edges of the shield, I focused on the soldier who had shot the bullet, hurling it at him with all my strength. My aim was surprisingly good, and the shield got him right in the head. He fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Steve, who had been talking to the others via the communicator, quickly turned to me.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes shifting down to my new wound. Sucking in a deep breath, I leaned down to examine it. It looked much worse against the white of the material, blood splattered around the entry of the bullet. But it was going to be okay. I was going to be fine. I lifted my fingers and ran them across my blood soaked suit, building up enough static electricity in the bullet to rip it out of my flesh. My adrenaline—and abilities—were too fired up right now for me to yell out as it ripped through my veins. I caught it between my fingers and straightened out, snapping my head to another soldier who ran at us with a gun. Trying to distract myself from the pain, I held my hand up and flicked the bullet at him, fueling it with enough force to send it straight through his body. He collapsed at the impact. Dead. I brushed my fingers against each other, trying to send some of my extra energy to my aching leg.

"That's new," I said. Just like every other new aspect of my abilities, I couldn't quite place how I'd gotten it to work. I knew I was able to 'create' energy, so to speak, but I hadn't realized I'd be able to put enough kinetic energy into an inanimate object to send it flying at such speeds. I'd have to ponder on that another time, though, and focus my thoughts on the task at hand. The scepter may have been found, but Kathrine could still very well be in the area. I would try again, when it wasn't a danger to the others.

In an explosion of dust and snow, Thor landed beside us. It seemed funny to me that he could startle me so bad after all that had gone on, but I suppose I was starting to get tired. And sloppy. If I hadn't seen him coming, how could I possibly hope to find Kathrine?

"I am taking Barton to the jet," Thor said. "Secure the scepter."

"Copy that," Steve responded. Another rush of soldiers headed towards us from the base.

"How many do they have in there?" I asked tiredly, barely mustering up enough energy to heal my leg in time. It seemed healing took a lot more out of me than attacking did. I suppose that made sense. When I was attacking I was both releasing and taking energy, stealing spurts of power from my enemies. When it came to healing, all I was doing was releasing. That, and I couldn't imagine how complicated it was to regrow flesh at a rapid rate.

"They look like they're lining up," Thor commented, amused. Steve lifted his arm—which I could now see was equipped with some sort of magnetic sleeve—and pressed a small button. The shield, which I had carelessly left several feet away after attacking the man who shot me, suddenly sprung up and flew in our direction. I barely got out of the way in time before it shot past me and secured itself to Steve's arm.

"Well," he commented, adjusting it, "they're excited." I took a step back as Steve crouched and Thor brought his hammer down against the shield, the force of the collision spanning out and knocking all of the approaching soldiers down. Once again, I almost applauded. I really needed to get out more and participate in these group battles, for the sole reason of watching my fellow comrades kick ass.

"Find the scepter," Thor commanded, then swung his hammer and disappeared into the sky.

"And for gosh sake, watch your language!" Tony joked. Beside me, Steve sighed.

"That's not going away anytime soon," he muttered. He headed off towards the inside of the building, and I trailed after. He and Thor's little stunt had at least cleared the area of soldiers, for now.

"Hey, if I curse in another language, does that count?" I asked, catching up to him. He answered me with another sigh.

"Oh, no, Green. You can't be foul in any language. You should know better, young lady," Tony said.

"Stark," Steve warned.

"I know, I know, I'm going inside. I'm multi-talented. Don't think I can't make jokes and get the job done at the same time."

Steve and I split as we got inside the building, Steve going for Strucker while I headed off in search of any other special artifacts Hydra may have been keeping. That, and Kathrine. I opened a door and found myself looking at a dark flight of concrete stairs that spiraled downwards, seemingly leading to nothing. I could sense people down there, but they wouldn't be much of a match against me, even in my weakened state. I set off.

It took several minutes before the stairs opened up into a dimly lit hallway, a single lamp illuminating the walls. I cautiously made my way through, wary about the lack of people. I could feel a presence nearby, most likely in a side room, and felt across the walls in case there was a secret entrance. The brick was hard and cold as I ran my fingers across it.

"Guys, any chance you could find a floor layout map anywhere? I could really use it," I said, but was met only with slight static. My comm was out. I tried not to let it bother me as I turned the corner into another, darker hall, using my free hand to produce a small ball of light. The faint sound of water droplets hitting the floor made the place seem so much eerier, like this wasn't some highly populated Hydra base, but an old abandoned mine instead. This was closer to that image I'd expected before; some damp, cold place where no one could hear you screaming seemed very fitting for Hydra.

My hand slipped as I ran it over one of the bricks, which gave in and clicked back into the wall. Something unhinged, and suddenly a doorway opened up before me. It was light inside the new room, my eyes taking a moment to adjust before I was fully able to see. When I could, I found that there were three people in the small space behind the wall, two huddled over desks and one standing in the center of the room, all looking at me. I met eyes with the one in the center, a strange wave of nausea rolling over me. The two at the desks were desperately scroungng up the papers laying across the surface, trying to clear them as quickly as possible, their feet scuffling across the damp floor. I took this as a sign that the papers held something important, and pushed my way into the room. I held my hand up to the one standing in the center, the woman, but she didn't even flinch as I allowed sparks to fly off my fingers. Inching myself closer, not wanting to cause a big scene and risk losing any of the apparent important papers, I went to reach for her shoulder. Then, I froze. The woman narrowed her eyes at me, a grin playing over her face as it suddenly twisted and changed, her body morphing and her aura shifting right before my eyes.

Kathrine.

"Playing hero?" she asked me, in that sickening sweet voice I had once trusted so much. My heart thudded.

"How did you do that? How did you disguise yourself?" I asked almost hysterically, trying to push down the fear that welled up inside of me as she watched me with those cold, dark eyes. What was I going to do if she messed with my brain here? My comm was out, so there was no chance of me telling anyone of her presence. If I emerged attacking everyone, would they just assume I'd gone rogue? No. Tony knew Kathrine had the potential to be here. He would vouch for me if something happened.

"It's easy to play tricks on the mind, Annabelle," she said calmly. "It's easy to make you see me differently. Easy to manipulate your vision."

"You changed your aura."

"Oh, aura? Is that what you're calling it now? I suppose it's a start." She raked her fingers through her light brown curls, not taking her eyes from me. "At least you're learning."

"What are the papers for?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes from hers.

"That's none of your concern." I could see that the others had already packed up the rest of the documents out of the corner of my eye, and I cursed myself for not simply attacking as soon as I saw the room door open. Would I be able to attack Kathrine?

"I'm not letting you manipulate me anymore," I said, though my voice quivered. I was showing weakness. By the glint in her eye, I saw that she knew it too. I was so scared to come face to face with her, even though I'd spent all this time trying to do that exact thing.

"That's fine," she said. She waved for the other two to leave, and they exited out a small door to the back of the room that must have lead out to another part of the building. "I won't do anything drastic. I've had my fun with you." Crossing the small space I had left between us, she lifted her hand and set it on the side of my face. I was so disgusted, I wanted to spit at her. But, I couldn't. I couldn't move.

"Hydra has no chance," I sputtered. Her grin only grew. Some of the stray blood from my mouth dotted her cheeks, but she didn't make a move to wipe it. Her eyes swam before me.

"Forget you saw me, Annabelle. And take care."

She patted the side of my cheek, and then she was gone.


End file.
